Ali, the 2008 HZJ76

[janyyc]

Predictably and as usual, I am somewhat behind in my musings. Following the previously described trip in December 2022, the next adventure with Ali in the Middle East - and likely to be the last before bringing the vehicle to Canada - took place in February 2023. The original plan was to drive to Saudi Arabia. I had everything planned out, countless pins on my maps, information on border crossings, insurance, Carnet de Passage (or not), and even hotel reservations. But about a week before the trip was to begin, and after some consideration, I decided to postpone a big Saudi trip for another occasion.

The reasons were numerous: we had about 10 days for this entire trip. The places I truly wanted to visit - and honestly the highlights of Saudi - were far away, and two entire days would be spend driving 9-10 hours. The weather was not ideal: this past winter was unusually wet, and the long-term forecast called for relatively cold temperatures - lows around 2-3C, highs around 16-18C. For those that live in the Middle East, such cooler temperatures are certainly welcome and can be considered "exotic", but we can enjoy cold temperatures nearly year-round in Canada. Finally, there was a big question mark as to crossing the border with the car, since it isn't registered in my name.

Ultimately, a trip like this is supposed to be a holiday, not an Instagram-friendly wannabe-overlander drive. There were still plenty of things I wanted to see in Oman, so we changed gears and could pack way less cold-weather clothes than before the decision was made...

Fast-forward a week (and a week after leaving home, after some work engagements along the way), we had a pleasant flight from Chicago to Abu Dhabi, landed, and proceeded with the very familiar ritual of border clearance, duty free shopping, baggage collection, Hertz rental car, and drive to Dubai. We picked up Ali along the way and stayed at our usual hotel, where everybody always seems happy to see us (or maybe Ali?) again. After a great first night in a comfortable bed and a luxurious breakfast, we packed and prepared Ali, drove to the main Hertz office, returned the rental car, and headed for Oman... but this time for Musandam, the exclave that takes up the northernmost part of the peninsula.

Musandam is a very popular escape for Dubai residents, as it offers fjord-like views, clear waters for snorkelling, and a rugged mountainous landscape. It is also the closest point to Iran and a popular smuggling route (more on this later), which all come together to mean the border crossing is the strictest around. Apparently, there were instances of rental cars being driven across the border, sequestered onto a boat and never seen again in Dubai... which has led to onerous paperwork requirements for crossing in a car that isn't registered in the drivers' name. Luckily, S was kind enough to go to the Notary Public of the Dubai Courts and get a notarized document permitting me to drive my own car, and with this document, the border officers let us through with a smile and a wave.

The views immediately after crossing the border are beautiful, with the highway hugging the coastline just below mountains jutting out from the dark blue sea.

The first order of business, and one thing which had led us to make our way as quickly as possible to Khasab, the main city in the exclave, was to head to the ferry office to pay for and print out ferry tickets... See, after quite some effort, I had managed to get in touch with the National Ferries Company and reserve us passage on the twice-weekly sailing from Khasab to Shinas (in "mainland" Oman). A different experience, beautiful views, and saving us ~250km of driving with two border crossings. The reservation was confirmed in advance, only the payment had to be made, which took all of 5 minutes, and let us pose next to some 79's in port (that canvas top... )

With all that sorted and having already done our shopping before the border, we started looking for camp. First we headed up into the mountains, hoping to find a secluded spot with a breathtaking view.

On the drive we passed an auspicious odometer reading...

The spot I had found perusing satellite maps was off to the side of the main road, and we proceeded on the spur and quickly found we couldn't make it up any further on some loose gravel. Deflating the tires some more, we tried two more times, and just could not conquer the section. Deciding it was definitely not worth the effort (and potential damage), we backed down and witnessed a local in a GRJ79 on balloon tires make it up with no issue (though with very high revs and quite some noise).



This was the first time we had encountered being unable to drive somewhere (not through something, mind you, but with an actual destination in mind) in either the HZJ78 or the HZJ76. Made me wish we had lockers, sure, but most importantly it made me wish we had superior tires... more on that later, too.

 

[janyyc]

We considered some other campsites nearby, but they didn't meet our criteria so instead we took the risk of heading back down and finding camp on the beach. I say "risk", because as I mentioned earlier, Musandam is very popular. Additionally, I had heard that road leading to the beach we wanted to stay on had washed out and was unsuitable for driving on... In any case, we headed towards our intended destination, and snaked through a long-abandoned construction site, finally reaching the last bit of road that was apparently difficult to drive... Assessing the situation, we decided it would not prevent us from departing camp the next morning (!), and headed to the end of the very small beach to find our first idyllic campsite of the trip. Making sure we parked above the high-tide line, we levelled the car by digging in the sand and set about starting a fire and preparing dinner.



In the meantime, we were fascinated by the large number of small speedboats whizzing past us, packed full with cargo. Musandam is a hub for smuggling of goods into Iran, and with our camp being at the narrowest point of the Strait of Hormuz (~50 km wide), we had a front-row seat to witness the proceedings. The smuggling seems to be state-sanctioned, or at least the coast guard doesn't care, since we also saw a sizeable cruiser in the fray. The stream of boats was near endless, and the next morning in the early hours we heard (but didn't see) the return procession. Later in the evening, we could also clearly see lights from Qeshm island across the strait.

Dinner was served, and a funny story behind that beer - that's Steam Whistle, a Canadian brewery, that we brought with us from Canada. I bought it in duty free in Toronto, as I usually do, and they packed it in one of those sealed bags that is supposed to be alright for connecting flight security. However, when re-clearing security in Chicago, the TSA told me that I couldn't take it with me onboard... because it was in cans. And they cannot see through cans. I spotted some empty boxes at duty free right past security, asked if I could leave to go back to the check-in counters, took two empty boxes, took the box of beer, and went back to the friendly checkin agent who was just as surprised by this rule as I was... Luckily we had plenty of remaining luggage allowance, the box made it intact, and we had our 16 cans of Canadian beer in Oman.

Sneak peak of the next day - sunrise just over the hill:

 

[JDM Journeys]

Cannot like this more! Can't wait to see it in person but sad that it'll be out of the middle east for these stories...

 

[janyyc]

After a superb Night 1 camping, we made a nice breakfast, I went swimming in the bay, had a shower, then we explored the old mosque (more of a shell than anything) and adjacent cemetery, and broke camp in anticipation of the steep exit... Would we make it?
Sure enough, 4-LO, 1st gear, and we were up without the slightest hesitation.



We headed to town to buy some quick supplies at Lulu, and arrived at the port about an hour before departure of the ferry. We were told to wait, so we took advantage of the time to re-inflate our tyres. At this point noticed some fairly severe damage on one of our tyres after the failed hill-climb. These are the made-in-Japan Dunlops which Toyota provisions on the base-spec 70-series (Workmate in Australia), and were new when we changed the rims from the original splits. The Dunlops don't have a great reputation, and indeed the pictured damage and very noticeable wear over only 11K km confirms their infamy...

Not having had the time to change tyres before boarding (as we were called to board even while inflating the last tyre), we hoped it would hold until the nights' camp, about an hour of (careful) driving away from the ferry arrival at Shinas.

We were told to drive "that way" and pulled up at a customs checkpoint, where instead they instructed us to go back to the terminal as stamps were required on our ferry boarding passes. Back again to the terminal, we waited in a short line, and our passports, car registration, and tickets were checked. Then driving again to customs, where they asked what we had - by way of stating "only food?" - and we drove through the port to board the ferry. The ferry was a modern catamaran onto which we had to back up, but the deck for cars was tiny, only about 10 vehicles could fit onboard. No wonder it's frequently sold out in advance!

We sailed out of port with a delay, and I asked about going on deck... I tend to spend ferry crossings entirely outdoors. "When the captain allows". Eventually, after passing many scenic fjords, finally there was a signal and everybody filed outside. We were passing between two rocky outcrops, and a deckhand had to be present outdoors while we were there.

Too soon, this time had elapsed and we were ushered back inside... Unfortunately this made for a rather boring trip, as the indoor seating left a lot to be desired. There was forward-facing seating and tables, and I wanted to sit at the tables, but was told it was for "families only" - Middle Eastern parlance for a mixed woman-man family with children. Instead, we were confined to the limited legroom seats, and happened to be sitting immediately in front of the designated prayer floor space, so we didn't have a quiet minute onboard... Next time (as unlikely it is I will ever take this ferry again) I would pay extra for "VIP" or "Business" in a heartbeat - it was only ~10 USD more, but worth every penny. Wish I had known when booking!

Pictured here, VIP seating. Not pictured - uncomfortable, full "tourist" class.

 

[janyyc]

Additionally, after leaving the Omani (Musandam) coastline behind, we were passing by the dreary and industrial Eastern seashore of the UAE.

Luckily, the time did pass and eventually, about an hour late, we did arrive at Shinas. The delay was slightly frustrating since every minute counted - sunset being around 18:00, our time to get to camp was limited, and of course we didn't want to sleep at the side of the road. Disembarkation was peculiar, with only the drivers being permitted in the vehicle, and passports being checked yet again (!), but we were soon on our way, and in Shinas people seemed to love our 76 - the most honks, waves, and interest we've ever had in it!

We enjoyed - but were also taunted by - the beautiful sunset, as we headed into the hills for camp.

Luckily I had some good satellite map pins, we found a little-used track and some former agricultural terraces, one of which we could squeeze onto for camp.

A nice dinner before a great nights' sleep...

We were amazed by the greenery, the copious rains really made an profound impact on nature, and for the first time I saw the Middle East in bloom.

 

[janyyc]

Jetlag woke me a little early on Night 2, which was a blessing in more than one way - by some miracle, my phone picked up one bar of 3G and I could call home (very appreciated) and enjoy some incredible morning sounds. Birds, crickets, frogs, and even a distant muezzin (call to prayer).



We made a sumptuous breakfast and I headed out for some shower-water at the bottom of the wadi.

Each terrace, painstakingly built many years earlier, with impressive masonry and beautiful flat surfaces, was a beautiful colour of fresh green and purple, with bees buzzing and the whole place feeling so very alive.

 

[janyyc]

Next up was the tyre replacement, which we did in situ. We used the hi-lift jack in the corresponding spot on our rear bumper, which worked well until we had finished and noticed the whole bumper was bent... Luckily applying the hi-lift on the bent side straightened that out quickly, but alerted us to a flaw of the Dubai-made rear bumper.

While our "spare" was now no good, we were not planning any major nor remote expeditions, and there is always a tyre shop around in the Middle East. Since I'm planning on replacing all the tyres in Canada anyways, I was not in a rush to do it again in the Middle East.

We also clearly identified our brake fluid leak, which has yet to be fixed (hopefully soon).

After taking a well-deserved shower, we explored the canyon a bit more - untouched, plenty of very large terraces that could even service big rigs as camping spots, and incredibly lush and green.

 

[Rigster]

Gosh, after crossing miles of desert and scrubless mountains, seeing that much green must feel like you are entering a forest! quite the travels there Jan, awesome pictures, keep them coming!!!

 

[janyyc]

Our intentions were to make as much progress as possible on this day, but we still travelled at a leisurely pace, stopping in Ibri for a coffee, and we ended up near Nizwa around sunset. After refilling our water containers at the Nizwa mosque (the second largest in the country), we searched for a camp spot. I had notated a spot in some dark-coloured pseudo-dunes, and we found that it was an alright campsite. The only negative was the view of Nizwa in the distance, though it was whisper-quiet. That, and all the unexploded ordnance... An "Academy of Police Sciences" is located nearby, and this must be where the "students" (used to?) go to unwind... There was certainly no walking around at night without a headlamp...

 

[janyyc]

We had a Mediterranean omelet for breakfast after Night 3, with Saudi feta, Jordanian olives, Kenyan tomatoes, and local chicken (yes, no bacon alas). Local Omani eggs not pictured.

After driving quite the distance on uninteresting roads, finally we made it back to the coast and the town of Al Khaluf, where we had to refuel. Another "outpost" village, with one paved road, the gas station placed ocean-front, with sand all around. I didn't take a picture but this one on Google is an accurate depiction: Google Maps - https://goo.gl/maps/bEoqWURDPvHRpCBC9

Luckily the diesel we got was not contaminated (took only half a tank), but we were a little worried that our campsite would be overpopulated. The "Sugar Dunes", as they are colloquially called, are very popular - not only is the colour of the sand a stunning pure white, but the dunes spill right into the sea. The first stretch of driving was tidal - I had made sure the tides were low - and we could easily drive 80 km/h on the compacted, flat sand, trying to stay as far inland as possible.



As expected, the ocean-front "Sugar Dunes" were already populated by two or three groups of travellers, and we did not want to risk enduring the noise and unwanted company. After all, an ideal view would anyways be from on top of the dunes. I found a little track heading into the dunes and followed it to the end. Then, on foot we found a potential path to take up a small dune to camp. After deflating our tyres more (the first attempt failed after a mere few meters), I drove up our intended path to the campsite. Or I tried to, anyways...

 

[prwillard2]

Our intentions were to make as much progress as possible on this day, but we still travelled at a leisurely pace, stopping in Ibri for a coffee, and we ended up near Nizwa around sunset. After refilling our water containers at the Nizwa mosque (the second largest in the country), we searched for a camp spot. I had notated a spot in some dark-coloured pseudo-dunes, and we found that it was an alright campsite. The only negative was the view of Nizwa in the distance, though it was whisper-quiet. That, and all the unexploded ordnance... An "Academy of Police Sciences" is located nearby, and this must be where the "students" (used to?) go to unwind... There was certainly no walking around at night without a headlamp...

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Those are expended sabot slugs from tanks or illumination canisters from artillery. No explosive ordnance still contained within.

 

[janyyc]

Those are expended sabot slugs from tanks or illumination canisters from artillery. No explosive ordnance still contained within.

Thank you for the info. Obviously, I know nothing about artillery. I'm Canadian.

 

[prwillard2]

Thank you for the info. Obviously, I know nothing about artillery. I'm Canadian.

I was actually trained at the artillery school at Fort Sill by a Canadian

 

[roma042987]

I was actually trained at the artillery school at Fort Sill by a Canadian

Nothing like the "artillery firing overhead" sign around the blackout lights only stretch of road headed toward Thompson Hill.

 

[janyyc]

My attempt at climbing the dune was going oh-so-well until I veered slightly off course and promptly sank in the soft sand. We were stuck deep, up to the axles and chassis.



The initial joy of pulling out the sand ladders and unwrapping them from the cellophane packaging was quickly overridden by the hard, hard work of getting ourselves dug out. The sun was setting and we were inching towards our camp spot, one slow, painful meter at a time.

The sand ladders lived up to their poor reputation... they bent like wet noodles, dug themselves deep into the sand, were clunky and risked damaging yet another tire with their sharp edges and ends.

Dig under the chassis and the wheels, place the sand ladders underneath, proceed one meter; dig for the ladders somewhere deep in the sand, repeat. Slow, slow going and a hard lesson learnt.
We were, however, immensely grateful to have the sand ladders on hand (thank you @John Young, and sorry that they are now mangled), since little by little we got ourselves out of the worst of the soft sand and could gingerly proceed to a flat spot for our overnight camp.



At least it was a very snecic place to get stuck in...

 

[janyyc]

Luckily a few minutes later we were already at camp and could still enjoy our surroundings in the post-sunset glow. The dunes were beautiful, the sand was very fine and snow-white in colour.

The place was entirely quiet, save for the sound of waves lapping on the shore, and the beach was only one set of dunes further, visible ever so slightly. Fishermen’s boats were bobbing in the sea, reminding us of our “illuminated” camp on Haida Gwaii in Canada.

 

[janyyc]

We woke in the morning to a beautiful sunrise over the sea, but the light fog, instead of lifting, became very dense and covered everything in dew.

For breakfast we made banana pancakes, the easiest - and most delicious - thing ever - one very ripe banana and one egg, mix well (e.g. with a fork) and place on the pan. No sugar, no flour, no additives.

We went for a walk in the dunes, taking in the beautiful surroundings, remembering our rescue efforts the previous evening, and taking pictures of our Land Cruiser in a "sandy taupe" environment...

Then, we successfully (!) drove out of our camp, past the encampment village on the shore, and on to further adventures...

 

[janyyc]

After exiting the beach, we drove on salt flats until we reached the main road again. Our plan for the fifth night of camping was to cross to Masirah Island, another apparently popular tourist spot. On the road, we passed a VDJ76 - something quite rare in these parts - and we waved and honked.

We reached the port of Shannah about 15 minutes before the departure of the state-provided "National Ferries Company" and drove straight to the operators' office. The VDJ76 pulled up as well, and we were both annoyed to find they wouldn't sell us tickets anymore despite the availability of space... Luckily, we could instead try to go and take one of the "local" ferries, old barges which are much slower and depart only when full Indeed, we pulled in, loaded up on one of the old barges as the last two cars , and departed minutes later.

Of course we got talking to Mohammed, who was Omani (but born in Portugal) and traveling with a lady from Switzerland. His was a 2020 VDJ76, which he was planning on driving all the way to South Africa with some friends in other 1VD Land Cruisers... plans which were scuttled due to the pandemic, and have yet to be raised again. We spoke about tyres, engines, sand, lockers, accessories, etc. All the bumpers, racks, etc. were Chinese knock-offs - which he loved but simultaneously complained about, showing us the rust, damage, wear-and-tear... He showed us pictures of his 71 stuck in the salt pans which are near Shannah and quite popular, and traded notes about camping sites and tracks (he had never crossed the Wahiba Sands). And, to top it all off, he paid for the crossing, as we were in quite the predicament - having used our Omani Rial to pay for gas the day before and not having been near an ATM in the meantime.

The ship was quite the wreck (pun intended), but the crossing was calm and we could enjoy the entire time on deck - in fact, there was no other alternative but to be outside (or inside your car, with the engine running).

Upon our arrival to Masirah Island, we all made a beeline for the National Ferries Company office (which was no easy feat to find) to ensure a comfortable return sailing to the mainland was guaranteed. Then, after exchanging info, we said our goodbyes to Mohammed, grateful for a new friend and a wonderful experience!

 

[Dilspec]

Thanks for taking us along.

 

[Gun Runner 5]

Outstanding thread …. Keep the photos coming.