The Renaissance Man

Travis Beard was a tourist in Iran in the aftermath of the 9/11 attacks in 2001, and that’s how he discovered Afghanistan – completely by accident.

The Melbourne-born photojournalist, community activist and musician was due to go to Yemen on holiday, but the country had closed its borders. Instead, the 36-year-old spent a month shooting confronting images and video in Afghan refugee camps for NGOs and global media after hooking up with BBC journalists and crossing into the war-torn nation. He soon discovered he had caught the Afghan bug and couldn’t shake it off.

But documenting the war for media outlets such as The Australian led to Beard becoming jaded by the industry, its level of risk assessment and lack of money. “I used to risk my arse, but I don’t want to anymore,” he says. He decided instead to take his media expertise into event management, to start a revolution promoting free expressionism.

Beard moved to Kabul permanently in 2006 and has since been leading a cultural evolution in the city, helping empower young Afghans to get involved in music and the arts. He mentors and encourages bands in the surprisingly diverse metropolis; a place where creative expression has been subdued for years, crushed under draconian Taliban rule.

“I have a love-hate relationship with this country,” Beard admits. “Afghanistan is enchanting, exotic and has hospitable people, but the lack of a system and corruptness makes things harder to do. Everyday life is quite a challenge: Kabul is a physically and culturally restrictive place; progress has been slow but it has improved. When I first came, there was power only every second day. Electricity is very important for what I do. I wanted to have a creative impact and to create something great.”

In 2006, Beard set up Kabul’s first ever alternative rock band, Kabul Dreams. Now there are 10 more. Beard is also a guitarist with White City, Kabul’s first expat rock band. “It is a small scene and we have to be strategic about the way we conduct our events,” he says. “Melbourne is spoiled – saturated with the arts; when you go to an event in Kabul people go crazy.”

But it’s not all about music. In 2007, Beard co-founded charity Skateistan, the first ever skateboarding school in Kabul. Even members of the Taliban have attended classes. “I remember the first day, when we saw the joy on their young faces. The confidence it gives is fantastic, and you can really notice the trend across the city as it has got more and more popular.”

Another of Beard’s big successes has been the Wallords art and graffiti project, started in 2010 after a British street artist visited Kabul. Contemporary art was non-existent here, now it is blooming alongside the music scene. “These kids had never seen, let alone touched, a spray can before,” he explains. “They love to get out and paint out of curiosity. They are now travelling the world and teaching others about street art as well as selling their work at exhibitions they put on at embassies.”

Beard still loves to travel. With friend and fellow-Australian journalist Jeremy Kelly, he set up the Kabul Knights Motorcycle Club to do one- and two-week epic journeys exploring places most foreigners have never been. They have seen 80 per cent of the country – there are five provinces left, but currently they’re too dangerous. “The roads have improved but security has gone down a lot recently,” he says.

Despite ongoing security issues, times are definitely changing. Now there is theatre, puppetry, breakdancing and many kinds of music on offer in Kabul. Beard says he has to be patient, open-minded and sensitive to the cultural situation, but a bit aggressive too.

While he still earns a living as a photographer, shooting pieces for NGOs, Beard is also producing a documentary on Kabul’s nascent rock scene. “One band has just been touring in India,” he says. “Their parents went too and it was a fantastic experience. The kids are going to study music courses instead of engineering; there has been a shift in the perception of music. The industry is very young and the Afghans need to accept the more modern parts of the culture or they will be back to an oppressive Taliban society.”

Beard’s biggest accomplishment came in 2011 when he and his fellow White City band members pulled off Kabul’s first ever alternative festival, Sound Central. The location had to be kept secret until the last minute due to fears of extremists targeting the event, but 600 people came to see bands from Afghanistan, Uzbekistan and Australia. The following year, a whopping 5000 fans attended the grassroots festival – about 70 per cent were Afghans seeking an education in international music. This year, the festival will be expanding across Central Asia.

“We even had our first ever stage dive at this year’s festival,” Beard laughs. “That was symbolic.”

Oman

With a Sultan keen on green and a law that forbids any garish skyscrapers, Oman is the antithesis of its northerly neighbour, Dubai. The capital Muscat sits on a lovely harbour, with the corniche housing the Old Mutrah Souk, one of the best traditional markets in the Middle East.

The harsh geography is extraordinary, with sheer rock mountains jutting straight out of the Arabian Sea and protected secluded beaches dotting the coastline in between some of the more classy five-star hotels in the region. Head out into the countryside and things are even more spectacular.

From the vast desert dunes of Wahiba Sands and grand canyons like Jebel al Akhdar to the many wadis and the extraordinary Musandam Peninsula, there is something for everyone. Whether you’re after adventurous rock climbing or camping beneath the stars in the desert, Oman is a country to discover.

Israel

The word ‘jaw-dropping’ tends to be overused when describing historical, cultural and natural sites around the globe, but to characterise Israel as such is completely called for – necessary even – to forewarn and prevent jaw-related injuries.

Float in the hypersaline waters of the Dead Sea or strap on a tank and explore the coral reefs and shipwrecks off Eilat on the Red Sea coast. This part of the world is a terrestrial bridge between Africa and Eurasia and so millions of birds pass through here twice a year on their migration, meaning it also attracts some of the world’s most dedicated bird watchers. There’s also good wine to had in the Galilee region.

Obviously, this is a country of great importance to history. The caves at Mount Carmel contain cultural deposits documenting 500,000 years of human evolution and are thought to have been sacred since ancient times. Remains of the old Crusader city can still be seen in the narrow streets of Acre. Then there are the Roman ruins at Beit She’an in the country’s north. Of course, Jerusalem is the number-one destination for most visitors, where some of the holiest sites for a number of religions can be witnessed.

It’s true that it’s hard to avoid the politics of the region while you’re in Israel, but there are attractions for every type of traveller, from pilgrim to adventure seeker.

 

Iran

After George W deemed Iran part of the Axis of Evil, Lonely Planet founder Tony Wheeler named it one of his favourite countries with some of the world’s friendliest people. We’re willing to take his word for it – he has, after all, been around the travel block.

Iran is the mountainous home to one of the world’s oldest continuous civilisations. In the big cities, like Esfahan and Yazd, you can hone your bargaining skills in ancient bazaars. There’s romance to be discovered in Shiraz, the city of poets, literature, wine and flowers. At ruins like Persepolis (meaning City of Persians), relive the glory days of Persia. Mosques (open to non-believers unlike in nearby Saudi), nomads and deserts all add to its allure. You’ll savour kebabs, khoresht (a thick stew of meat and veg) and doogh (a traditional drink of yogurt, water or soda and dried mint). But mainly you’ll be soaking up the curiosity and goodwill of the locals.

Don’t let the country’s bad rep scare you off; it’s safe, easy and rewarding to travel around. Plus, the locals are curious and gracious, welcoming visitors into their worlds and often their homes.

Soak up history and nature in southern Oman

"It’s a very popular place for honeymoons in July and August. People like to sit outside, holding hands and getting damp in the mist. It’s very romantic. Families come too and picnic outside for hours in the rain."

The manager of the Salalah Hilton is sitting in the lush gardens of southern Oman, lapped by the Arabian Sea. This is a place where rain is important. And while the other Gulf states are suffering temperatures of between 40 and 50ºC in midsummer, the coastal region of Dhofar, of which Salalah is the capital, becomes an earthly paradise for a parched desert people. Instead of date palms, there are bananas, papayas and mangoes. The traditional welcome in Salalah is a fresh drinking coconut.

For visitors for whom rain is less of a draw, the best time to visit Salalah is November to March. The weather is warm and dry but the green aftermath of the rains remains and the staggering beauty of the entire country – endless white beaches, magnificent mountains, oases, blowholes and even fjords – can be enjoyed without an umbrella.

Oman is the most southeastern of the Gulf states and its proximity to India explains the rains. They are called al khareef, monsoons that fall in Salalah and along the small strip of the Omani and Yemeni coastlines as a constant drizzle. In July and August the rains make the gardens burst into flower, turn the grand sweep of the southern slopes of the mountains, the jebel, green and fertile, change wadis (valleys) to fast-flowing rivers and transform stark cliff faces into waterfalls.

It is not just Oman’s weather that confounds Western expectations of the Middle East. This is a stable, peaceful country. It is spotlessly clean – the streets are swept twice a day, it is an offence to have a dirty or dented car and teams of cleaners polish the ornate streetlights – and there is an enviably low crime rate. The people are courteous, welcoming and eager to talk of the renaissance they have undergone since the bloodless coup in 1970, when Sultan Qaboos deposed his father to create a modern Oman. (The old Sultan’s remaining years were spent in the less-than-trying conditions of London’s Dorchester Hotel.)

Oman’s modernity, however, is not that of Dubai or Bahrain. There are no steely skyscrapers here and the architecture is vernacular, its inspiration unfailingly arabesque. While the country has opened its doors a little wider to visitors in the past few years, there are no plans to follow in its neighbours’ footsteps to create vast tourist cities. Development has continued at a steady, although comparatively slow, pace for the region.

The black gold beneath the sands may have funded this particular renaissance, but prosperity is nothing new for Oman. Dhofar is one of the few places on earth where the frankincense tree – the foundation of southern Arabia’s wealth in the ancient world – grows and the region has been the hub of trade in this precious commodity since about 5000BC. This was the incense the Queen of Sheba gave Solomon as a gift, and the wealth it brought to the area was fabulous. Queen Hatshepsut burned it in her Luxor temple in 1500BC, Alexander the Great gave it as a present to his old tutor to prove he had conquered this region, and, in 430BC, Herodotus wrote: “The trees which bear the frankincense are guarded by winged serpents.” It was thought to be food for the phoenix that, every 500 years, would be reborn from a pyre made from its wood. It was one of the gifts of the Magi to the infant Jesus.

After such a build-up, the frankincense trees themselves are, when you find them, slightly disappointing. They look not just ancient but, frankly, half dead, with papery bark rustling eerily in the breeze. They are anything but dead, though; their riches lie hidden within. The treasure of this extraordinary tree is harvested by making an incision that allows its sap to flow out and slowly crystallise. It can be pale as sand, golden or brown and its function is to smoulder slowly on a special burner, known as a megmer. The smell is Oman’s signature. It wafts through souks, grand hotels and the humblest of homes. It perfumes clothes and hair, and is even used as medicine – swallow some, I’m told, to improve digestion.

Frankincense wealth produced cities and palaces of dazzling splendour. One of the most famous, Omanum Emporium, featured on Ptolemy’s map of 150AD. It was an earthly city surrounded by marble walls, set with precious stones and topped with golden roofs, and its gardens were filled with singing birds and exotic flowers built to rival paradise. Lawrence of Arabia called it “the Atlantis of the sands”. Known as Irem in the Koran and Ubar in The Thousand and One Nights, its debauchery and paganism provoked the wrath of Allah who buried it under the sands.

There it stayed, despite many expeditions to find it, until an octagonal fortress with nine towers was discovered by satellite in 1992 in modern Shisr. Surrounded by a web of caravan tracks thousands of years old, Shisr could well be the fabled capital of the frankincense trade. Now, though, there are only scant remains to be seen and it is the journey there that is of more interest to the present-day traveller. About 150 kilometres north of Salalah, Shisr is a breathtaking drive from the empty beaches, populated only by fishing boats and flocks of flamingos, through fertile river valleys and into the magnificent jebel, home to soaring eagles. In Shisr itself, you are on the very edge of the Empty Quarter and 650,000 square kilometres of a windswept, shifting sea of sand.

Only the foolhardy venture into the Empty Quarter, but for those who want to sample desert life in Oman, the Wahiba Sands are just a couple of hours from the capital, Muscat. The dunes are breathtaking: 90 metres high, separated by deep hollows and with colours that range from amber to gold to orange. At sunset they glow with ever-richer tones, and cast long shadows, the very essence of desert romance. The dunes are moving at a sedate pace away from the coast – around 10 metres a year – blown by sometimes fierce winds.

Bedouin live out here with their goats and camels, and there are now a handful of encampments made for visitors. For true desert solitude, you can also have a camp made just for you, with camel rides into the sunset, stories told by bards with the silvery tongues of a Scheherazade, or music and dancing beneath a starry sky. For those of a less poetic disposition, there is always dune driving, the 4WD equivalent of throwing yourself off a soft sand cliff.

This is a country full of natural wonders. At Hawiyat Najm (literally ‘the star fell’), a huge crater made by a meteor has filled with deep, green water from beneath the desert. Schools of dolphins – hundreds at a time – frolic off the coast. Beneath the water, vivid corals bloom in one of the planet’s best diving destinations. The country has some of the world’s largest underground caverns, such as the majestic Majlis al Jinn, where some believe Aladdin (Ala ad-Din in Arabic) found his lamp. Every year, 20,000 turtles come to lay their eggs, leaving them to hatch in the warm Omani sands. Green mountains and golden cliffs plunge into the deep blue of the Arabian Sea and the Indian Ocean.

Man has left the lightest of footprints here, often building a house of sand that crumbled back into desert and simply blew away. Forts and lighthouses still stand across the land, many dating back to the days of Portuguese colonisation in the sixteenth century. Archaeologists have found the remains of the Arabian peninsula’s most ancient boat. In just such a one did Sinbad sail? Legend has it the Queen of Sheba had her palace here in the ancient city of Sumharam (40 kilometres east of Salalah), built on the riches of the frankincense trade. Fable drifts like sand in the wind…

At Salalah’s souk, in the Al Hafah district, you have to bargain – expect to drink a lot of strong, sweet Arabic coffee and just enjoy the game. This is the best place to buy frankincense with burners and charcoal, although even this isn’t as simple as it sounds. There are different colours, sizes and qualities and it all needs to be explained in detail – so more of that Arabic coffee. Heavily veiled women sell exquisite perfumes (bukhoor and attar), then there are leather, pottery, gold, silver, hunting guns and silver-sheathed knives – khajar, the national symbol of Oman. All the treasures of the Orient, in fact.

This is not a land where minimalism comes naturally. It may be some time since the Queen of Sheba passed this way, but a love of opulence and voluptuousness lingers like the scent of frankincense in the air.

After Dark in Muscat

Energy pours back into Muscat’s bones as the day’s heat wanes. The strips of clubs and pubs that typify many capital cities are nowhere in sight, but leave its luxury resorts and you’ll see there’s more to this ancient port city than expats sinking beers at hotel sports bars. Pockets of life flare between ridges of the Hajar Mountains, and the nightlife has a distinct Omani air – think cafes, cards and shisha paired with conversations lasting deep into the night, while the city’s adoptive locals rustle up plenty of party.

5.30pm
Kick off your shoes and join joggers and casual soccer teams on Qurum Beach or settle among the frangipani and a grove of palm trees on the manicured grass bank. Hotels and coffee shops open onto the strip, but for a beach-bar vibe stop at the scruffy Candle Café plonked right beside the sand. What the cafe lacks in gloss it makes up for in iced drinks, outdoor fans and uninterrupted views of the twilight golden sea. Do as the locals do and order a juice – lemon mint is the winner – and look for the next Lionel Messi kicking up tricks.
Candle Café
Qurum Beach behind Grand Hyatt Muscat
Shatti Al Qurum

6.30pm
As the sun disappears across the Gulf, it’s time to trade sport for culture. Head to the Royal Opera House, a grand showcase for musical arts commissioned by Sultan Qaboos of Oman. Unless you’re spruced up for the occasion (admission is inexpensive), linger just long enough to enjoy the architecture and some pre-show people watching before heading across town to the Marina Hotel. Ride the elevator straight to the top, snag a seat on the bar’s tiny veranda and, depending on the season, soak up the echoing maghrib (evening prayer) as it resonates over the bustling corniche and the white and bone-coloured houses bundled between the mountains. The harbour here was the landing point for the Portuguese who plundered the city in the sixteenth century, burning it to cinders. While the sailing ships are long gone, traditional dhows can still be seen bobbing between luxury yachts in the bay.
Marina Hotel
Behind the Mutrah Fish Market
Mutrah

7pm
Next stop, the souq. Tourists trawl the market in the heat of the day, sizing up Aladdin’s lamps and rocks of frankincense, but locals know the best time to go is at night. Stroll down the corniche, past vendors selling sweet potatoes and dates and sandwich shops with customers spilling onto the street, and enter the jostling bazaar. Turn off the main passage and slink into a labyrinth of hole-in-the wall coffee shops, stands dripping with gold and boutiques where black-clad ladies thumb abayas (traditional robes) in fabrics of cerulean and hot pink.
Mutrah Souq
Mutrah Corniche
Mutrah

 

8pm
Hail a taxi and hit the road, because it’s time to fill your belly and at Bareeq Al Shatti mall you’re spoilt for choice. Trendy twenty-somethings flash eyes at each other while queuing at B+F Roadside Diner. Its signature dish of Dynamite Fries – a delicious mess of chips topped with minced beef, cheese, ranch sauce and jalapenos – is, however, better suited to a 3am binge than dinner. It’s also too early for the top-notch kebabs from Automatic, served with tart pickles to cut through the garlic sauce. Dine instead at Ubhar, one of the few restaurants in Muscat to cook up Omani cuisine. Order the muttrah paplou (seafood soup with plump wontons), coupled with ubhar harees, a porridge-like chicken dish topped with rich onion sauce, before finishing with saffron crème brûlée and frankincense ice-cream. It’s Arabia on a plate.
Ubhar
Shop no 52, Bareeq Al Shatti
Al Kharijiyah Street
Shatti Al Qurum
ubharoman.com

9.30pm
Muscat may be a mostly dry city during Ramadan, but not today and it’s time for a drink. A 10-minute walk towards the beach takes you to Trader Vic’s, where rum-heavy cocktails sporting names like Zombie and Suffering Bastard will have your hips swaying well before you order round two. On one side of the open-plan room diners slice into grilled meat seemingly oblivious to the revellers downing sweet brews while shaking to salsa by the bar. For a sure-fire way to kick off your night try the favourite known as Tiki Puka Puka, a lethal mix of three rums poured in bath-like proportions.
Trader Vic’s
Hotel InterContinental
Al Kharjiya Street
Shatti Al Qurum
tradervics.com

10.30pm
Fairy lights twist through trees and sweet smoke from the shisha coils beneath lanterns in the canopy at the sultry Kargeen Caffe. This is one of Muscat’s best-loved restaurants and inside its grounds you’ll find families feasting in dining rooms, men lounging in courtyards blowing flawless smoke rings and fashionistas with heels and handbags worth many months’ rent glimmering in hidden alcoves. If you’re peckish, share a serve of shuwa, a dish of goat meat rubbed with spices, wrapped in banana leaves and roasted over hot coals for a day. But don’t get distracted by the food – you’re really here for the shisha. All the usual flavours like apple and strawberry grace the smoker’s menu, but for something more adventurous suck down a Kargeen Special made with a selection of freshly carved fruit.
Kargeen Caffe
Al Bashair Street
Madinat Sultan Qaboos

kargeencaffe.com


12am
By now the tiki rum has worn off, so set your sights on another bar. Left Bank’s views of the city will help you regain your bearings after sweeping around town in the back of a cab. Select your crew – smokers and sheikhs from neighbouring nations congregate on the patio overlooking the district of Shatti Al Qurum, while expats linger by the bar inside – and settle in. The menu here is ritzy, specialising in martinis, classic cocktails and mocktails – dubbed the “chauffeur’s choice” – but peer through the dregs of a caipirinha as clubbing hour looms near and you’ll spot shots the size of tumblers and gallons of Red Bull powering down patrons’ throats.
Left Bank
2601 Way
Shatti Al Qurum
facebook.com/leftbank.mustcat

1am
When it’s time to party, crowds flood to Copacabana, but the city’s hottest option is Zouk. Expect some familiar faces – those who haven’t sunk too many mojitos at Trader Vic’s often sail this way, shelling out wads of rials to hit the thumping dance floor. The club’s flavour varies night to night, with musicians jetting in from Europe and around the Gulf to grace the decks, and locals like DJ Pulse Muscat pumping out regular sets. Scope the VIP section where men wearing crisp dishdashas (traditional robes) nod to the beat, then grab 
a mix from the glowing bar and bust out your best set of moves.
Zouk
Crowne Plaza Hotel
Qurum
zoukmuscat.com

2am
Omanis go gaga for shawarma (kebabs). Every local swears by their favourite shop, but at this hour those in the know make a beeline for Istanboly Coffee Shop. Pull up a chair outside and watch the cook carve meat from a hulking spit, doling out goodies to workers ferrying packages between the kitchen and cars. Go for a wrap, packed with tender strips of chicken, and if you’re feeling brave slather on mayo laced with enough garlic to ward off vampires for years to come. Make eyes with the neon Mr Istanboly sign as you munch – he’s giving you the thumbs up for your fine selection.
Istanboly Coffee Shop
Souq Al Khuwair Street
Baushar

The science and logistics behind in-flight food

Thomas Ulherr will never forget his first airline meal. It was horrible. "I was just a boy, accompanying my parents to Greece for a holiday. Dinner arrived in a plastic divider tray and it was typical of airline food at the time: meat with sauce with some starch on the side and a jelly for dessert.”

Ulherr was already familiar with the pleasures of cooking fresh food sourced from his grandparents’ garden and didn’t immediately recognise the gloopy substance staring back at him. “It looked bad. It smelled bad. And it took me a long time to eat.”

How times have changed. Airline food no longer resembles prison rations and Ulherr has progressed through the world’s great kitchens and is now the corporate executive chef for Etihad Airways. Since joining the award-winning airline he has focused on taking its food to the next level. Improvements across the industry have been driven by three things: advances in in-flight galleys, competition among airlines and a global food renaissance.

We live in a world that worships food. Celebrity chefs are the new rock stars, cookbooks hog best-seller lists and reality cooking shows spawn like salmon and attract huge global audiences. Serving up lumpy meat and microwaved veggies is no longer an option. The top airlines hire world-class chefs who source only the best produce and wines from around the world and have expert staff prepare and cook much of the menu in the air. “At Etihad we don’t compare ourselves to other airlines,” says Ulherr of the United Arab Emirates’ national carrier. “We look at restaurants and hotels for inspiration.”

That means changing the entire menu every season. It means working with 700 chefs to produce consistent meals in a string of industrial kitchens. It means stocking in-flight pantries with premium produce – caviar, Moët, rib-eye, grain-fed chicken – so that first class guests can order whatever they want, whenever they want. It means vegetarian meals and hot and cold dessert options are now standard for economy guests. It means Ulherr may work on signature marmalade for three years before it’s ready to fly.

It also involves understanding the science of food. Part of the reason plane food used to taste so bland is that altitude blunts our taste receptors. It also changes the acidity and alters the flavour of different foods in different ways. This needs to be precisely calculated and compensated for in each and every dish. A pinch of spice can make a world of difference in the sky. “A recipe that works well in a restaurant may not work at all in the air, so we are always testing and asking, Will it fly?” explains Ulherr, standing and displaying his generous belly to demonstrate a personal commitment to research and development.

Asked to share a favourite recipe, he picks an exotic beauty: creamy tom yum spaghetti with farmed Abu Dhabi caviar. Like many good recipes it has a story behind it. Ulherr originally dreamt it up to impress a wealthy sheikh who routinely ordered caviar on his Etihad flights. It was a daring departure but the sheikh heartily approved.

On first glance it’s an unusual composite of international cuisine: tom yum is Laos’ famous spicy soup; spaghetti, of course, is all Italy; and caviar originates in the Black Sea. But in a way the dish represents the ultra-cosmopolitan and lavishly wealthy UAE. After all, this is a country where foreigners account for some 90 per cent of the population and whose capital, Abu Dhabi, is being shaped and styled by international architects and designers. It’s also a city where wealth and status are highly valued, so it’s no surprise to learn that caviar is a popular dish.

Caviar, you may recall, is the preferred snack of that dashing, international man of mystery, James Bond. During On Her Majesty’s Secret Service the British spy deftly dispatches a hefty henchman before snacking on some sturgeon eggs and coolly declaring: “Mmm… Royal Beluga, north of the Caspian.”

Scriptwriters for the next Bond adventure may want to update their cultural references. Abu Dhabi’s farmed Yasa Caviar is steadily gaining a reputation as one of the most coveted in the world. If you can get your hands on some it works wonderfully in a creamy tom yum sauce over spaghetti. Thanks, Thomas Ulherr.

Creamy tom yum spaghetti with farmed Abu Dhabi caviar

Serves 5

INGREDIENTS
30ml sesame oil
75g lemongrass, white part only, finely diced
150g shallots, cut into rings
1–2 cloves garlic, cubed
10g galangal, finely diced
15g ginger, cubed
75g shiitake mushrooms, cubed
50ml chicken stock
30g Thai chilli paste (or tom yum cube)
650ml cream
Arabic lemon salt, if available (use sparingly)
5 lime leaves
1 large lemon, rind finely grated, reserve juice
1 large lime, rind finely grated, reserve juice
pasta of your choice
30g caviar (or lobster cubes or prawns)

Red chilli oil
15g red chilli, seeded
75g red capsicum, quartered and roasted
50ml olive oil
10ml sesame oil

Green chilli oil
60g fresh coriander, washed, dried and chopped with stems
15g coriander seeds, roasted in olive oil
75ml olive oil
10ml sesame oil

METHOD
Start the sauce the day before you’re planning to serve it. Heat half the sesame oil in a pan and add, in this order, lemongrass, shallots, garlic, galangal, ginger and shiitake mushrooms. Add chicken stock and simmer for 10 to 15 minutes. Process mixture while it is still hot to form a smooth paste. Pass mixture through a sieve. Add the chilli paste then the cream. Season with lemon salt. Simmer for at least five minutes before adding the lime leaves. Let the sauce rest for at least 12 hours.

To make the oils, blend the ingredients for each, rest for four hours then strain through a cloth.

When it comes time to serve, remove the lime leaves from the sauce and simmer until it has slightly thickened.

For the pasta, combine the lime and lemon juice with the remaining sesame oil to make a marinade. Boil the pasta in salted boiling water until al dente. Drain and mix with the marinade. Plate the pasta, add the lemon and lime rind to the thickened sauce and pour over the pasta. Add the caviar, lobster cubes or prawns on top.

Garnish with the red chilli and green coriander oils. Serve.

Glamping on Khalouf Beach

An ever-changing bank of dunes hems this empty stretch of pale sand. Drive five hours south from Muscat along the Omani coastline and you’ll find one of the Middle East’s best beaches. Just back from the lapping waves, a luxury camp operated by Hud Hud Travels is the perfect romantic getaway. Amble straight from your tent into the Indian Ocean and soak away the sultry heat of Oman’s south. Here, flamingos wade with pink legs into gentle waves and eagles swoop on the surface, rising with fish glistening in their talons. During the day jump in a 4WD and take the ferry to nearby Masirah Island, where sea turtles breed, or head to Barr al Hickman, a saltpan where migratory birds flock. Otherwise just enjoy the seclusion on the sand or snorkel off the shore.

Muscat’s best shawarma

Omanis go gaga for shawarma (kebabs). Every local swears by their favourite shop, but those in the know make a beeline for Istanboly Coffee Shop when they’re after a late-night snack.

Pull up a chair outside and watch the cook carve meat from a hulking spit, doling out goodies to workers ferrying packages between the kitchen and cars. Go for a wrap, packed with tender strips of chicken, and if you’re feeling brave slather on mayo laced with enough garlic to ward off vampires for years to come. Make eyes with the neon Mr Istanboly sign as you munch – he’s giving you the thumbs up for your fine selection.

Modern Omani cuisine at Ubhar Bistro

It’s easy to find hamburger joints and sandwich shops in Muscat, but Ubhar is one of the few restaurants to cook up genuine Omani cuisine. Order the muttrah paplou (seafood soup with plump wontons) coupled with ubhar harees, a porridge-like chicken dish topped with rich onion sauce, before finishing with saffron crème brûlée and frankincense ice-cream. It’s Arabia on a plate.