Earlier this month, my cousin and I were looking for a short getaway. We had four days, a decent budget, and a shared need for a break after a few intense months at work.
The only challenge? A pretty average passport and the feeling that we’d already covered most destinations within a few hours of flying.
We ended up on the “Everywhere” tab on Skyscanner. The cheapest international tickets from both Mumbai and Delhi? Oman. Neither of us had any expectations. Neither of us had been. That was reason enough.
And so, with no plans and even fewer assumptions, we booked it.
I picked Tom Lake for the flight, a slow, meditative novel about memory, quiet routines, and the beauty of a life lived gently. At the time, I didn’t realise how fitting it would be.
Why Oman?
That question followed us from immigration to friends and colleagues. “Why Oman? And in May, of all months?”
We didn’t have a great answer then. But four days later, we had a few.
Oman is unlike its neighbours. It isn’t trying to be flashy. There are no skyscrapers in Muscat, no record-breaking malls, no over-the-top attractions. Buildings match the landscape, sandy, muted, low to the ground.
The backdrop is equally unbothered by grandeur. Bare mountains frame quiet villas, clean beaches hug the coastline, and even the highways feel oddly calm. The heat is brutal and the roads aren’t made for walking, but there’s a kind of slow, structured peace to everything.
It’s not a place that tries to impress you. And maybe that’s what impressed me the most.
Traveling with My Cousin
This was our first international trip together. We’ve travelled before, for 3 weeks across South India, but this one was different.
He’s decisive; I overthink. He finished his shopping in under two hours. I went back to the mall three times, debated everything, bought nothing, and then finally picked up Korean skincare with his help (mostly because I had leftover currency).
He’s also refreshingly direct, no filters, no fluff. I tend to keep things to myself. But that contrast worked. We agreed on what mattered and gave each other space where it didn’t. Traveling with someone is rarely perfect, but when there’s balance and mutual respect, it works without trying too hard.
Heat, Hikes and Arabian Dreams
We’d planned two day trips: snorkeling on one, and Wadi Shab with Bimmah Sinkhole on the other. We skipped the snorkeling, neither of us was excited about it in the heat, and we were both a little over the idea of forcing adventure.
Wadi Shab, though, was worth it. A short hike led to clear pools between cliffs. We floated in our life jackets, fully at peace with being average swimmers. The sinkhole and lunch after were just okay, but the freedom to change plans, skip things, and not feel like we were missing out was something I appreciated.
A Country That Moves Slowly
We often found ourselves walking by the beach in the evenings, just taking it in, the stillness, the cleanliness, the fact that even the public spaces here seemed more cared for than anything back home.
We asked each other: “What would it be like to live here?”
Neither of us had a clear answer. There’s calm and beauty, yes. But also a slowness that might stretch into loneliness without the right people. Oman, we realised, isn’t a place to live alone.
It made me think about my own life, how often I move between cities and jobs, people and places. How slowness feels like a luxury when you’re travelling, but maybe not so much when you’re standing still.
We squeezed in other things too, the Sultan Qaboos Grand Mosque, a beautifully detailed space worth visiting. We reached the opera house fifteen minutes too late to enter, which somehow made it feel even more poetic. We walked through the national museum, admired the architecture, and realised we were officially over seeing historic coins and ancient utensils.
The Mutrah Souq was charming in the evening, and the view from Mutrah Fort overlooking the old town at night was quietly spectacular.
My cousin, meanwhile, averaged three packets of laban a day, fully living the Middle Eastern hydration dream.
And then there was Brezza Marina, a pizzeria by the beach we went to three times, four, if you count the pasta we had at their mall outlet. There’s comfort in returning to the same place when everything else around you is new.
A Short Pause in Oman
This trip was a reminder that you don’t need grand plans or Instagram-worthy itineraries to have a good time. Sometimes it’s enough to walk slowly, eat well, cancel things without guilt, and read a quiet book that mirrors the trip itself.
I finished Tom Lake on this trip, a book about a mother telling her daughters stories from her youth, set against the backdrop of quiet farm life. It felt like a fitting companion. A reminder that simplicity isn’t something to rush through. Sometimes it’s what you come looking for without realising it.
Would I recommend Oman? For a short trip, absolutely. It’s affordable, calm, and surprisingly reflective if you let it be.
Would I go again? Probably not soon. But I’m glad I went.
Sometimes, a change of place doesn’t change your life. It just gives you room to breathe.
