Grand plans were plotted at 2 am- we were going to get up early for the tour round the grand mosque. Then we predictably slept through two alarms and finally stumbled out of bed at noon. Plan B was made (mosque now closed to non- muslims) we headed in the Muttrah direction for breakfast( or more accurately lunch.) We have a very obliging Mazda for the week, christened Siara, which Leila informs me is Arabic for car.  My relationship with Siara has definitely improved since the long circular drive round Muscat airport last night (trying to find the exit) where I mistakenly stamped on her brake pedal (thinking it was the clutch) about five times. Fortunately the brain cells are slowly being reprogrammed and driving an automatic car is becoming surprisingly easy. Map reading however is not advancing with quite such speed. Forty minutes after departure we realised the map we were using did not take account of recent major 'improvements' in the Muscat road system, and that we were in fact heading in virtually opposite direction.  

A little recalibration later we drove through the fort gates into Muttrah into what looked like a film set with wooden boats moored in a very neat harbour, overlooked by white houses with ornate Arabic balconies. We sat outside in a small shady garden and had an amazing breakfast of Crispy Zatar, stewed beans, cheese and olives. 

Fully fortified (and admittedly ready to fall asleep again) we then climbed back into the air conditioning box, and went to explore old Muscat. Sights included many impressive sandy coloured forts which jut out at seemingly improbable angles from mountains, and an enormous sculpture of a frankincense burner, which looked a little like a space ship.   

We found a fun museum (which was an excellent purveyor of really strong air conditioning) and also housed examples of  national dress, armouries, coins, many pictures of the sultan, beautiful qurans, and most importantly the national stamp collection. There was also a cafe, which had the seemingly rare commodity of wifi. The sun was setting, and in the advent of less oven-like conditions we went for walk around the outside of the Sultans palace. This was an unexpected mixture of beautiful and frankly ugly architecture, although I thought it probably best not to mention this to the very smart army man that approached us as we walked round the edge. He informed us that we were not allowed to take pictures (despite the fact, as Leila later informed me, his colleague was encouraging him in Arabic to let us take pictures and to try to chat us up.)  We then headed back to Mutrah to go to the souk, which has opened for the evening. An Aladdins cave would be cliche, but probably apt. This is an extraordinary place, which caters for all frankincense, jewellery, haberdashery, silk scarf, and taxidermy shark needs. After much aimless rambling (from me) and scarf intense scarf battering (from Leila) we decided to return on Monday to decide what to add to our suitcases. Then came a more practical trip to the hypermarket to pick up supplies. 

By this point it was getting rather late, and we decided to have supper in a part of Ruwi called 'little india'. It turns out little India unlike its namesake is very, very small and hard to find. In fact, an hour later we were yet to locate this mysterious region. (Despite a very kind man in a pet shop giving us pretty clear instructions.) Hunger and desperation were setting in so we decided to go back to the Airbnb and eat the emergency supplies from the hypermarket. However, fortunately on the way home we stumbled across an amazing cafe which served up a real lovely Manoosha (which as far as I could establish was basically Omani cheese pizza smothered in Zatar.) Two slightly lost white girls were very popular, and having thought at first we'd only be able to eat half a pizza each were so impressed that we finished one each they gave us a free pudding. This was amazing and consisted of milk, orange blossom and pistachio. We pretty much rolled out of the cafe to the car, and finally managed not to get lost once on the way home.