We left for Oman in stages. Dan Engber and John set off for Dubai the day after thanksgiving. They had hot chocolate at the Atlantis Hotel, they went to the Palm. Neither of them had been skiing before, so they went skiing at the Mall of the Emirates.

I spent the evening and morning with Chelsea Moore. Then, after she left for the airport, Iola and I dropped off our key with the downstairs neighbors to take care of Jackson, and walked to the bus station. We took a two hour bus to Dubai. I bought the seat next to me as well so that I could breastfeed her more easily. I thought of it as a first test for how she'll be in a plane; a mini trial run. I was tense, but she was ok. John and Dan picked us up at the Trade Center roundabout, and, theoretically, we were on our way to Hatta, near the border with Oman, to camp.

During the drive I got more and more unsure about camping. It was already dark; we didn't know where we were going. There was one hotel at Hatta, so we decided to check it out. You can hear John recount the next several stages of the trip here, to an amused Iola. Finally we found a hotel in Fujairah that wasn't $400 and tiny, so we slept there.

We made it to Oman the next day, Sunday, and again it was dark before we arrived at our destination, which was a hotel apartment in Al Ghubra, a neighborhood of Muscat. This was more affordable: two large bedrooms and a living room for about $150. John and Dan went out to a restaurant called the Chedi, which had foody foam and other fanciness. I stayed home and read Dan's novel The Ruins; Iola slept soundly.

The next morning the Global Scuba folks came to show us the way to the dive center. We went out the the Civil Aviation Club and John and Dan got outfitted and took a boat to the Daymaniyat Islands, went scuba diving and snorkeling. They saw a turtle, nudibranches, dolphins, coral... they'll have to tell you. Iola and I played on the beach and at the hotel. We walked around the neighborhood, we fell in love with Muscat. That afternoon we rented a four wheel drive SUV from the airport and tried to make our escape from the city, but it was hard. We did about three figure eights around Muscat before exiting the urban atmosphere. We went through a wadi in the darkness, we got to a fishing village Yitti, we found another village Al Seifa, we asked for directions from labor camp laborers playing ping pong, we camped on the sand. The ocean was loud. The tide was red. Iola was uncomfortable.

In the morning we ate nutella for breakfast., looked for cool rocks on the beach, packed up the car. We picked up a hitchiker in Al Seifa going back to Yitti, who told us a better wadi to go through to get to Qurbiat. We took his advice, with a little trepidation, but eventually made it through. Saw goats on walls, were invited for coffee in dusty unpaved towns, but kept our momentum, trying to reach the most beautiful wadi of all, Wadi Shab. More unmarked roads, brand new highways, U turns, and we made it! See the pictures on facebook. Dan and John swam in an underground cave. That night we slept on the beach again, more comfortably. We had dinner in Tiwi. Urdu is still useful.

Wednesday we drove back to Muscat. I am a columnist for The National by the way! I wrote my fourth column in a dinky notebook in the car, then filed it from an internet cafe in Muscat, while John, Dan and Iola walked through the souk and along the corniche. We avoided further figure eights around Muscat and dropped off the rental car just in time. Drove over the border at Al Ain and made it home by 10:30pm.

It's hard going on a road trip with a 4 month old, but not too hard. She seemed to like it, and she kept to her nap and sleep schedule. We figured that in proportion to her life, it would be like one of us going on a trip for a year and a half. I wasn't super strict about her sitting in her car seat every second, especially for the dirt roads and empty parts, and that made her happier.

Dan Engber and Iola near Al Seifa