Eight days between the Hajar mountains and the Wahiba Sands. Coffee with goat-herders, sleeping under stars at 800m of dune, and the cleanest seafood mezze of my life in a Muttrah backstreet.
Muscat arrives gently. The Corniche at sunset is the whole city introducing itself at once — fishing dhows, the brass-bright souq, the call to prayer folding over the water. We did nothing but walk and let the jet lag burn off slowly.
What follows is the day-by-day — the free days in full, and the rest as a pay-what-you-want plan.