From Saudi to the UAE, to Yemen, to Oman, there are all lots of sub-regions of the Arabian Desert, which have emerged over time based on a combination of local tradition, geographical features, and scientific classification. The geography of this particular corner of the desert is largely dominated by long, parallel dunes (also called longitudinal dunes). A single dune can stretch from 5–20+ km (3–12+ miles) in length. And, in terms of height, they can reach 100 meters high (330 feet). To put that into perspective, that could be roughly equivalent to a 30-storey building!
The theme of today is old Arabian fortresses scattered throughout Oman’s Al Hajar mountains. Oman has a lot of these old relics, and we’re going to be visiting 3 of them. We’ll start with Nakhal Fortress, move on to Bahla Fortress, and finish with Nizwa Fortress, which is actually part of a very cool little town bearing the same name. In the past two articles, there was a LOT of information about Oman and the geopolitical neighborhood it calls home. Admittedly, during these articles I was still getting my feet under me in this new country. But this is where we’re going shift gears from educational exploration to something a bit more fun.
So, go use the bathroom now because it’s about 1 hour from Muscat to Nakhal, and we’re not going to stop until we get there. 👀
The first time I learned about Dhofar was actually in a BBC nature documentary! Although they are pretty obscure in the wider world, within Arabia the Dhofar mountains are quite famous for the incredible transformation they undergo each year during the monsoon season. During the “Khareef” (the local name for the monsoon season), this whole place transforms from a desert into a massive, green oasis! It happens from June to early September, peaking in July and August and, in addition to being misty and wet (already very unusual within the region), Dhofar also becomes much colder than the rest of the Gulf. There even seasonal waterfalls that pop up all over the mountainous landscape! During this time, there is a huge influx of tourist (mostly from Saudi Arabia and the UAE) that come in to enjoy the greenery and cool temperatures. There is even a Khareef Festival that happens during this time. UNFORTUNATELY, we’re not visiting during the Khareef. This visit happened in mid-December, so Dhofar will be in peak-desert mode.
Bourdain said it best: “The Sultanate of Oman defies expectations”. It occupies a very tricky slice of the map indeed, a smaller nation holding its own against all odds in some extremely treacherous geopolitical waters. Its neighbors are the war-torn, perpetually-collapsing Yemen, the conservative and ruthless Kingdom of Saudi Arabia, the opulent, high-flying United Arab Emirates (UAE), and Iran, which needs no introduction. It also shares responsibility with Iran for the Strait of Hormuz; maybe you’ve heard of it? Literally the entire world has had their eyes glued to this strategic global choke point on the world’s oil supply for the past few months… things are TENSE. And right in the middle of this pressure cooker sits Oman: safe, moderate, reserved, modest, welcoming, and beautiful.
The first time I came to Istanbul—which was 10 years ago now!—I spent most of my time in Kadiköy. In the crisp autumn air, fresh off months spent backpacking through the sweat and humidity of South Asia, I was absolutely charmed by this place! It caught me completely by surprise; I didn’t want to leave! The streets were bustling with cool-looking young people, there was an amazing coffee shop on every corner, and the steep, narrow streets provided a treasure-trove of urban ocean views, similar to those of San Francisco or Stockholm.
This time around, I visited during the summer months, and Kadiköy felt different. I think both of us had changed a bit over the past decade; I’d be lying if I told you it felt familiar. Nevertheless, I retained some conceptual familiarity with this place. Far from the touristy bustle of Galata, Karaköy, and Taksim over on the “European Side,” decidedly more humble than the Westernized glamor of Bebek and Nisantası, and much softer than its hardline conservative neighbor, Üsküdar, Kadiköy managed to feel at once both comfortable and local. It’s likely still too Western to truly be considered representative of Türkiye or even Istanbul as whole… but this is where a more local and authentic version of Istanbul feels accessible to me.
So let’s breakdown both Kadiköy and Moda; they aren’t exactly the same place.
In positioning Üsküdar right after Bebek in this series, I’m hoping to give you a bit of whiplash. If you’re not reading these in chronological order, I’ll fill you in: Bebek is an affluent, socially progressive community on the northern (European) banks of the Bosphorus. There’s a gorgeous promenade where you can walk along the banks of the Bosphorus amongst fashionable people who seem—at first glance—to be quite Western! But make no mistake: Türkiye is not the West. Places like Istanbul can be confusing, because they often present as very European, but if you dive just a bit below the surface, you’ll discover a world that is quite unfamiliar to Westerners. This is a complicated place, because it contains both realities in parallel. We’re going to use Üsküdar as a vehicle to explore the more culturally conservative side of Istanbul.
Today we’ll explore few key areas from what is locally known simply as “The European Side”. Istanbul straddles a natural strait called the Bosphorus, which is the official boundary between Europe and Asia. The “European Side” of Istanbul—which is divided into two parts by an offshoot waterway of the Bosphorus called the “Golden Horn”—is decidedly more touristy than its Asian neighbor. The two pieces of the European Side that sit on either side of the Golden Horn are the Historic Peninsula (also call the “Fatih” or Old City) to the south, and Galata–Beyoglu to the north.
Tunisia was going to be my second country in Africa, so I was excited to at least get a taste for it. We didn't have much time here, but we would still be able to see a decent chunk of Tunis. The flight here from Algiers was short but green and scenic as we made our way horizontally across the top of Africa. And as our plane made its final decent over northern Tunisia, I was excited. Here are a few pictures I snapped out the window. Drink 'em in, because everything went to shit from here.
To finish this series on Algeria, we're going to dive headfirst into the legendary Casbah of Algiers. This is the oldest neighborhood in Algiers, and many locals would also say that it's the most dangerous. In fact, the vast majority of locals that we asked about it told us that they themselves would not walk through this neighborhood alone. Yikes!
Now, if you've been following this series on Algiers/Algeria, you know that I've been preaching about how unexpectedly safe Algiers turned out to be. So it might seem odd that I'm now telling you about a place that is supposedly so dangerous. Well let me kick this off with a spoiler for you: the Casbah isn't so bad.
Today we're going to be doing a double-header: Cherchell and Tipaza. These places are not quite on the level of Timgad, but they are still going to be interesting and gorgeous. So buckle in kids! It's time to drive out into rural Algeria for some adventuring!
So, if you've been following this series on Algeria, you know that I was traveling with my mother. One little-known fact about my mom is that she's secretly a bad-ass and had actually lived in Algeria briefly in 1980. So this was a long-awaited return trip for her. During that time, although she did spend some time in Oran and Algiers, the majority of her stay was spent in a tiny town called Cherchell (pronounced "share-shell")...
