...probably for the last time.

The events described in this post took place on or about January, 2011 in Nizwa, Oman. For those of you viewing this through Facebook 'Notes', the original post is available on www.henrickatlarge.blogspot.com. It will enable you access to photo galleries and other multi-media material which don't transfer into 'Notes'

Well, the new year came, and with it I returned to Oman, on New Year's Eve actually. I spent the transition between 2010 and 2011 in the Bahrain  airport lounge. Which wasn't too bad considering they had put out a a booze selection for about half an hour to allow the guests in the lounge a quick NYE drink.  Of all the places I could have been, I'm sure that I could have done worse.  No new year's eve kiss though.  :(

Upon returning to Oman, I noticed that something had definitely changed.  I felt different somehow.  I think it was because I was staring down the barrel of what was to become my last semester in Nizwa.  I knew I would be leaving. Where I was going to though, well, that hadn't firmly been decided.  As result of this, I started revisiting places that I liked.  Knowing that I would probably never return to them. As well as trying to 'check off' those things I had always meant to do but never gotten around to doing. 

Shortly after the New Year.  Myself and two friends journeyed up to Jebel Shams again.  It was actually two trips.  One on a Thursday and the next the day after.  I thought I had lost something up there on the mountain on the first day. So myself and my friend Jared returned the next day to look for it. 

The second day was really the trip that was worth note.  It was actually a very cool experience, if not a bit harrowing and freaky.

 Upon arriving to the crest of the mountain where one parks and then walks a trail down into the canyon, we were beset on by the local children.  They crowded around Jared's truck and kinda of just gawked at us.  These were no ordinary children. You could tell by looking at them just how shallow the gene-pool is up there.  Millennia of all-too-close conjugal relations with family had produced more-than-slightly irregular fruit.  One of the children, the tallest and apparently the oldest had tried to talk to us.  We couldn't understand him at all.  Partly because of a condition that was similar to turrets.  But instead of random curse words that were interjected sporadically, he broke into a gravelly demon-like voice, intermittently throughout his attempts at communication.  This, coupled with his enormous man-sized hands, swollen, bulbous arm joints  and a very clumsy put together jaw that was slightly too big for the rest of his head, made for a very surreal experience altogether. 

After we had made our way past the group of children and continued down the path towards the entrance of the canyon, we were confronted by a wizened, desiccated husk of an old man.  With nary a half dozen teeth in his head, he crouched on a piece of ancient wood on the floor.  He wore a  filthy robe, and his skin was caked with something that appeared to be baked-on, or that could have been just the condition of his time and sun-worn skin.  In a manner befitting of a horror movie he began to point and shout at us most creepily.  It was very much as if he was shouting a warning at us not to pass.  This made my skin prickle.  I felt as if we were in a some kind of horror movie.  Like an Omani version of the 'HIlls Have Eyes'.  We actually discussed stopping the planned hike and returning some other time.  But, in the end, we manned-up and decided to continue down the trail into the canyon.

After suffering the initial weirdness at the mouth of the trail, we had no problems with the rest of the hike.  The view was spectacular, as always.  We did not, however, find the lost thing we were looking for (months later it turns out it was never truly lost). But we did manage to get a Yoga session in at the end of the trail.  Not bad, despite the trips ominous beginnings. Just goes to show, sometimes you just need to sail through the storm to find nicer weather.  Well, this was probably my last trip to Jebel Shams, and I'm glad I took it.  I wouldn't have time to take another such trip out that way.  There was many other things to do before I left Nizwa