It's only a matter
of going
14 February 2024
I pitched my tent, searched for some dry twigs around me to make my first woodstove dinner and while the aubergine was on the fire, two cars stopped at the turn of the dirt road some 500 metres away. I was wondering why they were there, there’s nothing else than just a road with some streetlights, but who am I to know on a first night in rural Oman, a country I only knew from blogs and books. At some point after I finished my simplified baba-ghanoush with toasted flatbread (turned out to be a trip favourite), two headlights came towards me… and I was camping there, nearly ON the path as it was the flattest spot could find, but also, all alone.
The car came closer and it was full of men, like eight or so. They must have jumped all in one four-wheel drive. “Hello”, one shouted out of the car of laughing people, “Are you ok?”, “Do you need anything?”. That’s what they came to do, just curious about the light they saw and offering some help if needed. So they just wished me a good night and turned around. ‘Well, seems like there’s nothing to worry about’ I thought smiling :)
During my four-week cycling trip, I experienced kind-hearted, welcoming Omanis who just want to be sure you’re having a good time in their country. Nearly annoying sometimes because if you have a look at the images from my series It’s only a matter of surface, the roads look empty like I’m in a far-away place, but more than once when I stopped to take a photo, I just had to wait until the cars passed and had to wait even longer when they stopped to ask if everything was ok and if I needed any water, or dates or a lift! More on the friendly people later but I want to share the behind the scenes story with you on this project and unforgettable trip.
Why Oman and why on a bike?
Barren landscapes, the desert, stone and rock; even though my house is full of plants, I’ve always liked the aesthetics of it. The simplicity, the emptiness, the solid blue skies and its colour palette, or perhaps just the difference from home. I remember having a stopover once in Muscat and stared outside the plane window like a little child secretly thinking I wanted to go there. A little travel feature in a magazine sparked my interest once again.
Quickly I realised it would be far out of my budget. As an upcoming tourist destination, they don’t start with hostels and public transport doesn’t really exist. At the same time this was also interesting, as I found out you could literally pitch a tent anywhere and there isn’t much tourism yet. And… cycling is for me the most convenient way of travel. You can stop anytime and everywhere you like, go slow enough to fill the day with just beautiful views. I can’t image to stop constantly to get out of a climate-controlled car, realise the view isn’t photo-worthy, and get sick by getting into a cold car again. Tiring! Well, for you who’ve been following me for a while, it’s no secret I do like pedal power to go from A to B so here was a plan. No, there was an idea, the plan was yet to make.
The hard stuff
To bring that idea to life the biggest ‘problem’ was a new bicycle. “A bike?” I hear you say, “can’t you just buy one?”. Well, I had something in my mind like custom build fancy shit, but even then, there were plenty of options to fuel my decision-making anxiety. I was cycling quite a lot as a bike messenger, shorter camping trips and just a way of transport until that time, but all on a vintage bike with geometry that didn't suit me, without possibilities for bigger tires or more luggage. After some advice from a bikefitter, and too many thoughts, I bought a discounted bike on Christmas morning during my porridge breakfast. Online, from a London shop which was closed for the next three weeks. I booked plane tickets to Oman for February and obviously a trip to London to pick up a bicycle which I hoped to be doing the job of taking me through Oman. I just thought it was now or never (read: next year which would be the same story over again). Well, I should do that more often! A huge weight fell off my shoulders even I didn’t know yet if I had made the right decision. Something to take with me as it appears to be a constant returning issue…
The good thing about last minute planning is that there’s limited time to stress. I haven’t done it differently very often in my life. I often wonder what it is what makes me stress that much. I am not scared about the trip itself. It might be more to do with “whatever I do, do it well”. Thoughts tell me I could get more out of it if I prepare better, so it happens that I take a few hours to decide if I want black or orange luggage straps. Who said cycling steep hills is tiring? Anyway…many thanks to friends who had to deal with me and really helped me through January :)
The relief
Once in the plane to Muscat, all the stress just disappeared. Any uncertainties arising changed from stress to adrenaline. Or perhaps it felt more like a challenge than a burden. As if I were a completely different person. I arrived at night and my AirBnB host had offered to pick me up. He didn’t show up and I couldn’t get hold of him. So I just waited until the morning until he woke up and apologized for not being there. I didn’t mind, I couldn’t do much else anyway. I assembled my bike, left the box and a backpack at my AirBnB host, and after a good sleep I set off in the early morning during rush hour.
As I landed in the dark, there wasn’t much to see from the plane at that hour except a very nice arrangement of lights. It turned out to be the hairpin road uphill I had planned to get out of town the next day. Muscat isn’t really designed for bicycle riding and I soon found myself on highways which isn’t a problem riding on the shoulder, until you get to the interchanges! I survived though, and soon I arrived at the bottom of this hairpin road. From day one I knew how the climbs can be in Oman: steep! The downhill was frightening with my new disc brakes, which I hadn't yet been able to trust, especially coming from flat polder country. Luckily there was a kind road cyclist supporting me uphill and he invited me around for a big lunch at his house to top up the energy levels. That was only day one, experiencing the welcoming hospitality of the Omanis. They just want to be sure you’re looked after well.
The project
While doing some research at home about Oman I noticed the fast developing road network and read about a traveller who got annoyed about his map not being up to date anymore. 50 years ago, there wasn’t even more than 10km of paved roads. That fascinated me so I started looking for maps to see If I could find old ones. I bought a vintage travel guide for inspiration but it was hard to make a plan before arriving. I just needed to be there but I had some kind of starting point to focus on: Literally exploring the roads. The space in-between the destinations they’re connecting in in a fast and comfortable way.
Very soon I pedalled on roads suddenly ending or starting. New smooth tarmac roads with roundabouts without more than two exits. Or an exit towards a canyon? It tells something about the past and the future I guess. I loved the shapes and lines of the roads and paths in the landscape. When a car drives through a barren landscape, leaves a track, and the next car does the same, at some point there will be a path. Beautiful. And everywhere they build new roads, you find traces of the old road nearby. From empty shelters in the middle of nowhere to a beautiful but unusable tarmac coastal road.
Waking at 5am, making breakfast, packing the house and being on the road, looking around and stopping often to capture these things you see in my project, until late afternoon when I start looking for a place to spend the night, make a fire for dinner, the daily Instagram updates and sleeping at 9pm. I loved being in this flow. Constantly fuelled by the sun (and dates) and all the views. It never bored me and surprisingly the landscape changed daily.
Storm, or just a few gusty winds
Whenever I look back on this trip I always think I was constantly in a good mood. Like being on a high for a month. Were there really no low moments or times I just had enough of it? Is it just afterwards I have these positive thoughts? Maybe, if I look honestly, I do remember a few harder moments.
One afternoon I found myself on a place which was a road on the map but the real thing wasn’t really suitable for a bicycle. I made a new plan but then lost both my map, followed by losing the good mood. It was a long washboard style road mixed with loose bits and sometimes there wasn’t a difference between ‘the road’ and everything around it and it felt like being lost in a wide open space. Exhilarating, yet frightening. But I just continued and at some point I got to a real road again and it all felt like a nice adventure.
What kept me bothering was something during another day when I couldn’t get my phone working again. Just a black screen. I kept cycling and just tried to think that I’d have to buy a new one in the next town. Not a huge deal – even without a phone it would be ok. I noticed thoughts about not being able to share my experiences through Instagram. I was a bit shocked with that thought, as if my joy depended on social media. On the other hand; it’s a human need to share things you love. So joy doesn’t depend on it, but it is a nice thing to do! And about the phone…. I only had to slide the brightness up…
A few weeks into the trip and just after days of great magic roads, views and plenty of climbing, I felt a bit down. It was also the first day with a bit of thin cloud and the temperature was just 25 degrees… I was cold. (I’d love thin cloud and 25 degrees right now!) Probably I was just tired. I needed to look for a place to pitch and while I was procrastinating with a drink in a village, a local told me there was a hot spring nearby. Yes, really. A hot spring, a few minutes away on a day where I was cold, in a generally hot and sunny country. AMAZING! After my spa moment/deep clean I needed to rush out of town in the dark to find a place to sleep and found a football pitch… a little too urban for my comfort zone. But I was pretty sure, at night, there wouldn’t be anyone there to disturb me. Never heard so many mosques in the morning for the call to prayer.
Good to realise these ‘low’ moments are nothing more than a little negative storm of thoughts in the brain and never lasted long, never as long as at home.
Welcome, always welcome
I'd be lying if I said I didn't attract attention as a woman alone on a bicycle. But since it's not very common for them to see, it's not surprising, right? I didn't see another female cyclist anywhere else except in Muscat, and met only three other male bicycle travellers during the trip. I was looked after very well – sometimes a bit too well in my opinion. I got asked a few times if I really was sure I didn’t feel like ‘getting intimate’, because if I wanted, I should know I was welcome. But I always felt that saying ‘no’ was absolutely fine (and if you wondered, it wasn’t just the feeling…it was fine to say no ;-)
Well, always…One day during a storm I got offered a guest house to stay as being on the road and camping wasn’t a good idea. Although the host was very friendly, it turned out he also liked drinking a lot and a promised bbq never happened. He got into an argument with his also drunk friend who warned me to leave asap! I didn’t but I was very happy to leave that place in the morning but still was amazed my host did make me very good breakfast just as he had promised, while he passed out the night before. I just learned to not trust the Omanis who drink alcohol and if you give someone a phone number you’ll get asked daily if you’re ok and need any help. I don’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth but I just can’t fit kilos of dates in my mouth!
Local women
One morning I was cycling towards a small village near Al-Ashkarah. A town on the Arabian Sea, and the southernmost point I've reached on my trip. A car slowed down next to me and surprisingly it was a woman this time who asked me if I was fine. She wanted to invite me for coffee at their house. I took the invite as I looked forward to talk with a woman because you just don’t see them that often out and about. She lived with her husband and two children in a large polished house, similar to what I'd seen on day one. While sipping cardamom-spiced coffee and eating dates, she told me about her education and her job at the library, which is normal for women. However, she also mentioned that she wouldn’t step into a car to go to the supermarket alone; she preferred to let her husband do that. She didn’t mind (“he just does everything for me”) and doesn’t have the desire to have that freedom. “Although it’s not forbidden, people will still talk about you if you do so as a woman here in this town. It’s not like Muscat yet”. Yet she really liked the fact I was cycling around solo as a woman and after some anonymous photos and filling my bags with plenty of fresh fruit, she waved me goodbye. The next day, some 80km further, a car passed by and suddenly stopped. A woman’s face appeared out of the window, surprisingly happy “Is this you? This is you! With my friend!”, pointing at her phone. It’s easy to become famous, when you’re the only one…
I was cheered on multiple times as a female cyclist, being seen as an inspiration. Hopefully, more Omani women who have the desire will feel brave enough to just go.
Wildcamping heaven
To sleep, you just leave the road, and you surround yourself with a moon-like landscape and make your bed. And camping is allowed pretty much everywhere! Why would you not like to pitch your tent on the edge of ‘the Grand Canyon’ of Oman? Well, maybe because it’s too windy to sleep, you need rocks because ‘pitching’ isn’t possible and I'd advise against it if you're a sleepwalker. But you can just stay there, no gate or security.
I slept at beaches, in moonscapes, sandy deserts, in the mountains and in wadi’s. All amazing places. The challenges for sleeping and cooking are the worries you might have beforehand, and once on the road, there might be more or different challenges but so there are solutions you don’t think of at home! Or time simply passes by and the sun will rise and you can leave again and probably have a better sleep the next night.
I woke up a morning in the sand dunes, covered with a layer of sand and I realised it could be quite dangerous as you see how much that sand moves overnight. It also can get suddenly very windy. But it was a great place to be after all, when the sun sets and when it rises again.
Oh, and one night a found this dream pitch, right on a cliff, looking right over a little turtle bay. Until a big car came driving up to me and pointing his finger more inland, ‘no sleeping here’! It turned out to be a protected area and not while the bay was forbidden area at during the night, also the surrounding km or so. Ah well… everything for the turtles! It was only 1km for a morning swim the next day instead of 100 meters.
I cooked mostly on wood as gas canisters are hard to get (if even possible). Surprisingly there was usually a lot of ‘wood’ in this desert. All dry small stuff and super easy to burn to boil water or cook something simple. Hummus with chargrilled aubergine and toasted flatbread was a favourite. One night I found a shelter on the beach, as it was a stormy night. Behind a wall a managed to make a fire to grill some fish which a couple of fisherman gave me before they left home when it got dark. It was my first time cleaning a fish (in the dark in the sea so I didn’t actually had look at it), but adventure is very tasty! At times when cooking was impossible it would be hummus with flatbread, raw veg and dates. Always dates! And I’d have some chemical fire thingy to make coffee :-)
Many Omanis themselves like to go (wild)camping too and often pitch up with friend or family on the beach. For me not the most enjoyable nights. I like the silence and nothingness and being by myself instead of being alone, between with other groups with their music and laughter. An always recurring question is why I'm not with someone else, as if I'm weird because I prefer to enjoy myself alone rather than socialising with others. I like both and I absolutely love laughing! But when it’s about photography and travel, so far I had the best experience by travelling solo. And then I don’t feel lonely.
Epilogue
It took three long climbs on busy roads to reach the capital city again. That’s also three long downhills and instead of dates, someone gave me a slice of cake for the effort. It was a strange feeling to ride into Muscat again on my last day. The previous couple of days were more humid as the weather slowly changed, the skies were not as bright blue, and I had sweat more than during all the dusty uphills in the burning sunshine. At the first cafe, I changed into some 'fresh' clothes because the dusty and dirty look felt disrespectful in this shiny city with its polished floors everywhere. I went to the touristy part and had an expensive juice on a terrace, expecting to enjoy the more luxurious atmosphere for a bit. However, I found myself missing the simplicity, the kind people, and the views. I cycled slowly to the outskirts where I had booked an AirBnb for a night I never spent there. They kept my cardboard box, and I had a place to shower and pack up for the flight home that evening. I even got a lift to the airport. With raindrops on the windscreen…
To then arrive in Amsterdam on a beautiful day in spring. With a pair of dusty socks in, with tie-wraps repaired, sandals, it was a nice bike ride home to Rotterdam, to finish it properly.
Images of the project It's only a matter of surface been published in several on- and offline media.
Read it all but want more, or couldn't be asked and want a quick impression of the trip? I made two Instagram highlights with all the fun bits of the trip as well.
© Willy Lamers, 2025