muscat, oman
Everything about Muscat was unexpected. I didn’t expect to go (a) in my lifetime, (b) with Dua and Savar1 (c) while I was in Abu Dhabi.
I also didn’t expect (d) to enjoy Muscat so much.
The old part of Muscat is a collection of gorgeous stone constructions interlaid with a few low-lying stone mountains. Part of the planned activities for our day trip2 was for Dua to bargain at the souk. In all my years of knowing Dua, I’ve thought him as many positive things which notably lacked a proclivity to negotiate. In the boundaries of the souk, nothing was further from the truth. Now we’re dancing.
Consider the following story. I saw a beat up Casio watch I liked. I asked for the price — ten rials — and after my attempts, which felt extremely aggressive and uncomfortable to me, I was rewarded with a whopping two rials off. Dua decided to calmly walk over. As soon — as soon — as he walked over, the merchant offered seven rials. Dua’s presence alone was enough to match half of my progress.
Dua ended up getting me the watch for two rials, by persuading the salesman of its horrible condition. He then performed what I can only describe as the Yurchenko double pike vault of negotiation, as he convinced the salesman to switch this beat-up, near-broken watch with another one in a much better state, for the same price.
We did other stuff too: drink saffron lattes on top of a castle, eat a bunch of fresh fish, and meet a member of a prestigious international dual degree program (which, naturally, Savar had heard of and we had not). Negotiation is cool, but will always be secondary in my heart to the good times.
Footnotes
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I met Dua when I was 13; Savar when I was 17. I wouldn’t have expected us to be in Oman together, well, ever. Friendship evolves funnily that way. ↩
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One of the main installations — and mandatory rituals — of the biermarkt has been the day trip, a tongue-in-cheek way to see places. It wasn’t until travelling with non biermarkt members that I realised how rare the love for day trips really is. ↩