Man Oh Man (Manila-Muscat-Rome)

Let's begin with today's title, Man Oh Man by Amma. We are trying to be contemporary. And no, dear reader, you are correct - I have no idea who Amma is. It's Jayne's sense of humour: we are flying to Oman, like in the title, O(h) Man. Like an ICAC witness in Operation Rosny, I have no further comment. Except there are a couple of random photos to break up the text.

It was a fitful night’s sleep. Who sleeps well when you know you have to wake to an alarm at a ridiculous time. Jayne often remarks that the best thing about retirement is not having an alarm to control our sleep. Not sure I agree but I was well awake before the 4am alarm. Mind you, at home that is the time I often get up to go for a ride. The world slumbers, the traffic is minimal and the early morning cyclists and joggers inhabit the streets.

Mark, our driver on Grab, arrived at 4:15am. Unlike Uber at home, they are not permitted to wait for you. Jayne headed to the car as I returned our door swipes and checked out. The roads were deserted by comparison with the previous evening and it had been raining again. The temperature was already in the high 20s with humidity at 91%, not a lot of difference from when we arrived.

Despite the early hour, we were at the terminal just after 4:30am, and it was very crowded. We were directed to the Oman Air counter. The queue snaked through the sheep-run from the desks to the very end of the barriers. My heart sank until I spotted one lane that was devoid of life: the Business Class line. I could feel the eyes of those in the endless queue as we walked straight to the desk to check in. Five minutes later we were negotiating the much calmer security clearance and immigration. Another bonus, an exit stamp to partner the arrival one. Still no request to see the QR code. Also, as expected, our Qantas issued boarding passes were taken and new Oman Air passes were provided for the next two legs of the journey.

A Seal Rocks, NSW, sunrise.

The Lounge was crowded initially but soon thinned and we organised some seats and food. There was no time for breakfast at the hotel for obvious reasons, although they do offer a ‘grab and go’ service for the crazies like us who fly at ludicrous hours. The airport is obviously 24/7 as I heard planes a number of times over night when I should have been sleeping.

Boarding was listed a full hour before departure. Interesting. As is the case with many airports in Asia, the gate is merely a doorway to another waiting room. Down the stairs we went into a very crowded waiting room. We were ushered into the Business Class waiting area. We looked here, we looked there, not many seats available and certainly not adjacent seats without having to climb over the ignorant who blocked access to seats not on the aisle. It’s the age old ‘gate lice’ story. Some have a need to be first in line to stand and wait. I watched as other people came in and looked desperately for a place to rest, those stopping their access and guarding their space, not interested in moving themselves or their bags.

It became obvious quite quickly that this area had to house more than Business passengers. Here we waited to see what would eventuate when they commenced calling the boarding zones. The 6:45am boarding time came and went. At 7:10 we got the call, Zone 1. This time I was rather smug as I walked toward the gates, watching those spread across the seats, unmoving in their occupied territory. Not seated in Business then? Enjoy the cramped confines of Economy. Karma.

There are two obvious differences between Oman Air and Qantas, the first being the lack of a champagne welcome. It’s tough, dear reader, but I had to be content with orange juice and given the hour, that was fine. Although it wouldn’t be have been the first time I’ve had bubbles for breakfast. Or before breakfast. The other distinction is the temperature of the plane. With Qantas, I had my jumper and blanket on me all the way to Manila. Indeed, the lounge here and in Sydney was also very cold, but the Oman cabin was warm. Jumpers off, no blanket required for this leg of the trip.

We pushed back about 20 minutes late. Breakfast orders were taken and we surveyed the entertainment system. Limited would be a good description. The music selection was curated by the BBC, not a lot of content beyond Britain, under the ‘western music’ rock or pop labels. A Bowie concert from 1996 was enjoyable. As I write this, I’ve just finished my second movie, The Bride. Curiously weird with lots of intertextuality. As is the norm, I can’t remember the preceding film.

Breakfast was passable although my preferred option of muesli was already exhausted. I assume the food was loaded in Oman and we have what is left from the flight over. Bravely I ordered a double shot espresso. I’ve had worse. Actually, I’ve had a lot worse.

One for the bird nerds. An Eastern Yellow Robin.

Given the price differential Oman Air is a most cost effective way to get to Europe in the pointy end of the plane. There are some trade-offs. On this flight alcohol is available but you need to request it. I didn’t bother. The headset plug is different to any other plane I’ve travelled on, so I was forced to use the supplied earphones. They worked well. And I’ve commented on the entertainment offerings. The service is fine, but again, if you want something you’ll need to ask.

Jayne was fascinated by the view of Muscat as we came into land. There was blue sky but it was kept at bay by the wall of dust. Looking down, the city resembled a cemetery. The buildings were all white, like tomb stones bleached in the sun and separated by strips of sand. There were a couple of green patches and the odd swimming pool. It looked anything other than welcoming or hospitable.

There was little sign of movement. There were a few cars on the elaborate highways, but not enough to justify the grandeur of the road system itself. And the round-a-bouts. They were bigger than principalities in Europe. If they appeared large from up in the air, imagine reality at ground level.

I am unsure how close we were to being on time in Muscat because time zones confuse me. The point is, we arrived. Safely. Once disembarked, we went in search of the Lounge. It was found easily enough and most of the people in our cabin turned up there at some point as well.

In contrast to Manila, Oman airport was almost deserted. The expansive runways told a story of future expansion, but today was quiet.

The lounge area was deceptively large and it had a bar area. This we discovered only after eating. We  had decided to move to allow others to have our table and the place filled up. Our reward was finding the area where alcohol was served. A couple of champagnes helped us relax into the afternoon.

The flight to Rome was, unhappily, scheduled in a 737. I know we are in Business and it was superior to any other 737 Business Class, but 7 hours not being able to lie flat. I'm too old for that - hence one of the main reasons why we fly Business. Otherwise the food was great and there was a wine service, the staff were efficient, but again, after the initial service if you wanted something, you had to request it. 

Who'd have thought it?

We actually opted for the set Omani dinner menu which had a selection of small traditional dishes as entrees and two options for mains. It seemed like a lot of food but we were assured the components were all little - they weren't and we couldn't eat it all.  We really liked some of the dishes; a couple of others weren't to our taste but we are happy to experiment because we don't see any point in going overseas and wanting it to be like Australia.

The flight map showed that the Mango Mussolini (thank you Rosie O'Donnell) has not yet renamed the Sea of Oman. It also had our flight heading up the Strait of Hormuz. It's OK, we survived and landed in Rome on time.

Trouble with the new immigration system that is supposed to cause major issues getting into Europe? No idea. We have electronic passports already and were directed into a different line that had us exiting through electronic gates like at home. We were at the baggage carousel in 5 minutes. Believe it or not our bags were there before us. Seriously, it has taken us longer to get back into Australia! Now we have been inside the Schengen Area, hopefully we are set for the next 3 years.

Then into more unknown territory to get the train to Roma Termini. As usual, signage was a little patchy but we followed the signs we could, purchased tickets and boarded the Leonardo Express train for the 30 minute journey to Rome. We were at the hotel check-in by 9:30pm. Another long day, but we have arrived.

Sunset as we arrive.

We're here for two nights to break up the travel and get into the time zone. But first, a shower and sleep.

Towards Republica.

The party people across the road. Love double glazed windows.

Alla prosssima.