A day at the Wadi

After a long week of training at work it was time to get out and about to see some of Oman. Together with Dale, Cath, Sophie and Jessie, we went on a day trip to Wadi As Suwah.

'Wadis are (usually) dry gullies, carved through the rock by rushing floodwaters, following the course of seasonal rivers'. (n.b thankyou again residents guide to Oman).
Dale and family picked me up in their family 4WD early and I hopped into the back seat, with the other kids, and then settled into a 3 hour drive with the girls and Winnie the Pooh on the in-car-headrest DVD players.....who'd have thought that 'fun' ryhmes with 'sun'.....thankyou Tigger!

We drove for about an hour South Eest on the bitumen before we entered the rocky and barren Hajar mountains for a bit of 4WD action. The road was fairly good with only a couple of roughish spots to negotiate. Cath was navigating from the 'Explorer Oman Off Road Guide', and after only one wrong turn near 'The Big Tree Trunk' we arrived at our Wadi a further 2 hours later. The guidebooks directions were to park under the sign proclaming that 'Drowning accidents are now popular'! So we did.

After parking we glanced upon our oasis in these semi-arid lands. Staring back at us was a beautiful little green watering hole surrounded by cliffs, with a half meter wide, four meter high waterfall feeding the little pool. Well this was all well and good, however there didn't seem to be any easy way to get to this little slice of heaven, especially with two little girls and all their supplies, and three Australian adults and all their supplies, obviously with a large esky in the equation.

After scouting around for an easy way down we gave up and decided upon the least hard way! Dale went first, in thongs, down the hot slippery rocks, with Sophie in his arms, myself following with small esky, chair and my supplies. The first party made it down safely to the edge of the water then started a short wade through the pool to our lunch spot. It turns out the rocks were small and slippery, and on our way up the slippery rock bank Dale lost his left thong in the water in amongst the rocks, and I lost lost my right!

Undefeated though, and with one good pair of thongs between us, Dale headed back up the hot precipice, in odd looking thongs, to ferry down his remaining daughter, while I remained to look after his first born and attempt to retrieve our lost thongs. A task that was to prove more difficult than it sounds!

After 10 minutes or so Dale was back down. I grabbed Jessie, while Dale ascended again with my emptied out swimming bag to bring down his supplies, and to guide Cath down who also had her arms full of supplies....Pheeeeew!

With all the group now down the cliff, with most of our gear, we now got on with the enjoyable business of relaxing. Camp was set up, lunch was taken, then it was time for a swim. I donned the goggles and flippers and went on a thong retrieval mission, much like my University days....hang on, where did that come from?

The gaggle of Crowe's joined me in the search which managed to turn up Dales left one after about 10 minutes. After another 10 it was time to abandon my lost Brown Havaiana and check out the watering hole. (n.b the small, thong stealing rocks are far too F*&^$g hot to negotiate in bare Australian feet!)

The water was a nice temperature, maybe 27 degrees, full of tiny little fish of unknown parentage, rocks, the odd empty wine bottle, and also little worm-like creatures which may be responsible for a couple of bites on both Dale and I. For a small pool the water was quite deep and very pressurised. I did a couple of dives but could only just get to the bottom, maybe 5 meters, before the pressure was too much and I had to come up....strange for such a little pool.....maybe the enclosed space and heat have something to do with the water pressure?

We fooled around for a while in the water, before relaxing over a beer and some more food.

After some chip eating, we swum and played again, thong searched again, then decided on the best way to get ourselves out of the Wadi. If you look to the left of the waterfall, your right, you may just notice the previous 'course of the seasonal river', which was our prefered option of climbing out.

As you can imagine, a flowing water course makes for slippery rocks, and it was with great skill, effort, and determination that we got 2 young and tired girls, 3 adults and supplies out of our haven, and with only one thong swap, we managed it without any injuries!

(n.b Fortunately Dale didn't have the camera handy to snap a photo of me in my left thong and right flipper on as I made my way back to the car :)

Thankfully two tired girls made for two sleepy girls on the way home which meant I could watch the Wiggles Big Red Car in peace. I also saw the history of the Wiggles which was very interesting, seriously! Those two little girls don't know what they missed...although Cath tells me they may have seen them once or twice before.....and going by her knowledge of the lyrics I reckon she has too!

I think I could have been a Wiggle, I think Jeff with the purple skivy is just my style. Although I can hear a few of you out there saying WAKE UP CRAIG!

A tiring, however very enjoyable day in Oman :-)

Some work.....and some play.

It was a good feeling to be finished in the training college and fortunately my shift cycle didn't start for 4 days so I had a chance to see a bit of Muscat.

Together with my friend Dale, also an-ex Melbourne controller, and his wife Cath and two young daughters, Sophie and Jessie, we headed to the Oman Dive centre for a day of relaxing.

The Dive centre is a pretty little inlet situated on the North Eastern coast, where the rocky Hajar mountain range meets the water. They have a restaurant and bar, pool, boat trips and diving facilities which I plan to utilise after my validation.

The previous weekend I was invited by my rental agent to go fishing with a bunch of his mates. After a 30 minute drive to the coast we boarded our small boat and dropped a few handlines over the side. By the time we left 5 hours later the esky was empty of beer and full of fish. Even Craig 'Rexy' Iapozzuto managed to land 8 or 9, including two of the prized red and white spotted ones which I can't remember the name of now. It seems that the fish around here are as plentiful as the Indian blokes with moustaches!


The main Muscat cricket grounds are prominently marked on the maps, and it was with great anticipation that I arrived at the 'main entrance'. As I desperately searched for 4WD on my hired Toyota echo to negotiate the access road I glanced upon the 2 main ovals, that is after I worked out where the boundary between cricket oval and dirt paddock was! Although the showpiece grounds of Oman are table-top flat, desperately as I tried, I failed to find a blade of grass.

Being that there is a huge Indian population in Oman, and let's face it there are Indians everywhere worldwide, there is loads of cricket coverage both on television and in the media.....Heaven for a cricket tragic!!

The clubroom and 'grandstand' were occupied that afternoon by some of the construction workers that are building a huge ediface near the ground. Everywhere you look the oil money is being funneled into the infrastructure in an attempt to modernise Oman. Although fortunately there is strict regulations with regard to building practices which is ensuring the country retains it's Arabic style and still embraces it's cultural roots.

After my 4 days off it was time to get back to controlling 'live' air traffic again, and strangely I was looking forward to going to work, which is the first time in a long time. My first cycle, (which is 2 x 07-15, 2 x 15-23, 2 x 23-07 followed by 4 off), went fairly well. The procedures and equipment here are a far cry from Australian standards, however with a new airspace, exotic airlines and destinations, and new workmates I am already enjoying my time here at work. When any of the controllers has a special occasion such as a birthday, buys a house has a baby etc, they bring in a feast of local cuisine for dinner. Off go the shoes, down you sit on a big mat and hoe in! It seems to be a lot more communal here than back home due to the culture and the small size of the control centre.

Let's just hope the novelty doesn't wear off too soon!

Settling In

They say time heals all wounds, well this is turning out to be true!

The initial hassles of relocating and adjusting to a new culture and climate are starting to fade into the distance. There is a strong group of ex-pats here, controllers and their families, who have all been through the stresses of moving and setting up new homes, and are therefor very supportive of new arrivals. This was especially useful when it came to alcohol, as you have to apply for a liquor licence before you can buy booze, except for in hotel and restaurant bars. The main problem I had was that we had started our training course in the ATC college which was 0730-1400 Sat to Wed, (the Omani working week, with Friday being 'Pray Day'), and the licencing department at the police station being open 0700-1300 Sat to Wed. You apply for a monthly allowance of up to 10% of your monthly salary, and once that is gone bad luck! Thankfully a couple of weeks ago we finished early and I raced into Ruwi, the CBD, and got my licence in the form of a passport type book where all the purchases are recorded.

I got an allowance of 100 Rials per month, about $300....better to be safe than sorry!

Here's a picture of me enjoying my new licence while watching the India v England third test on my pay t.v.

Note the look of dissapointment on England captain Michael Vaughn's face as he watches his wicketkeeper Matt Prior drop Sachin Tendulkar on the 1st day of the 3rd test. Note my look of pleasure!

It took a while to set up house as the cyclone also affected furniture sales, availabilty and delivery times. A lot of people lost everything therefor there were 2 week delays on most furniture deliveries, which meant 2 weeks of a leaking air mattress, Dale's little camp fridge, no couch and no stove. The rentals over here are not furnished with a 'cooker' so you have to buy your own including gas hoses, connect it, then buy a gas bottle. After take-away food for 2 weeks it was a relief to be able to do some home cooking! (Although the take-away here is cheap, good and there is a huge variety)

My housemate Franklin is taking a while to get used to. He is 51, from Panama, and only plans to stay for a year or two at most. I offered him a room until we get 'validated', approximately in 3 months all going well, and then he would find a place of his own. His family misses him, especially his 12 year old daughter who is often crying on the phone at nights, therefore he is very homesick. He is not used to cooking for himself, or washing clothes etc, and is not used to living away from home. It has been a big move for him and he is struggling to adapt and therefore has been putting a lot of added pressure on me. I know I am not the easiest person to live with either so that is also a factor (I tend to be a touch on the pedantic side, and work on the theory of 'Do as I say, not as I do').

The rent here is 350 OR (Omani Rials) per month, meaning Franklins first month covered the cost of my 175 OR couch.

By the time he gets validated in 3 months my whitegoods should be all accounted for!

I must add though that Franklin, although 'god-fearing' to an extent, is a really nice guy. He reminds me a bit of my Dad with his kindness to people, lack of cooking skills and his non-listening abilities......ever tried to live with your Dad?

Once our apartment was furnished we felt a lot more comfortable, except for the occasional blocked toilet, tiles falling off the outside of the building and the noise echoing through a concrete brick apartment building, however with 'real' air traffic control starting soon we settled down with a beer or two and hit the books to study our new airspace....(Note maps behind Frank)...

Oman or Bust?

As some, or most of you are probably aware, in mid June 2007 I, Craig Iapozzuto, of sound mind and body, left my family and friends, my job of the past 11 years and my beloved home in Torquay, Australia to move to Muscat, Oman, on the eastern edge of the Arabian peninsula.


However before leaving I threw a gowing away/Birthday party for myself at the Torquay sports bar - otherwise known as my garage.

After saying my goodbyes to family and friends I boarded my Emirates flight to Dubai, then Muscat, and settled into a 15 hour plane flight in 'cattle class'.


I arrived in Muscat early morning of July 22nd along with Chris McCarthy a fellow Air Traffic Controller from Melbourne who also took up a contract with DGCAM (Directorate General of Civil Aviation and Meteorology). We were greeted at the arrivals gate by two representatives of DGCAM, who spoke little English, then proceeded to grunt at us, race us through Seeb 'International', airport and then took us to our hotel where we were to spend the next 2 weeks while we got ourselves organised.

The task of getting organised was to prove both long and frustrating! The beauracracy in Oman is something to experience to believe. Every official act such as drivers licence, resident card, medicals x2, road pass to Dubai, liquor licence, bank account, hire car, house rental etc, etc, has to be accompanied by numerous official forms. These forms have to be stamped, in specific order, by various organisations throughout Muscat, then signed by the various departments, again in order, a couple of passport photos each, (Red or Blue background depending on the purpose), then a fee paid at our expense.



The task was to prove more difficult due to the lack of hire cars all over the city due to cyclone Gonu which hit here 2 weeks before we arrived. Numerous cars were washed away from everywhere including homes, car yards and hire car agencies. The hire cars that were left on dry ground were snapped up by the locals who had lost theirs!

We relied on Abdullah, the public relations man from DGCAM, to get us around for 2 weeks, however he soon lost interest and left us to our own devices!

The cyclone has disrupted all aspects of life here, including housing, and many people were displaced and properties ruined. There are a lot of properties built on Wadis,(dry creek beds), due to their prime location and lack of rain in northern Oman, so when unusually a cyclone came all these properties were destroyed. This meant that rental properties were in small supply, high demand and at greatly inflated prices.
After looking at various properties I found a 2 BR apartment just 10 minutes west of the airport in the suburb of Mawaleh. A 1 year lease is mandatory and so is payment for the whole year in the form of 3 months in advance, then post dated cheques for the rest of the year.
The apartment is serviced by water tanks on the roof until a pipeline can be laid to mains water supply which I was assured would happen within 2 weeks (as yet to happen). As the pumps of the water trucks filled up water tanks for 30 residents at 2300, which seemed to be the time of last call for prayer the loudspeakers of the Mosque next door, I wondered about my 1 year commitment in my new apartment. While sagging uncomfortably on my borrowed airbed that night, listening to the planes at a few hundred feet zoom into Seeb airport outside my window I yearned to be on the next one departing to Dubai then back to Melbourne!