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A golden oasis, where the hospitality lives
We thought of changing into fresh clothes before going for dinner at the hotel restaurant, but thought again, realising of course that we would have to change immediately afterwards. As in Dusseldorf, there was not the remotest chance that the restaurant would be smokefree, and so it turned out to be.
The Hotel Golden Oasis in Muscat boasts several bars and restaurants with exotic names such as Mer-Maid, the Captain’s Cafe (“a place where you can relax and spread good cheer by shooting your tired mind by playing pool table and darts along with your favourite beverage”) and Cleopatra’s, but most were closed. We found the Ubar Restaurant, through a covered walkway, up a flight of dingy stairs and through two doorways. Here it was, full of Omani men drinking and smoking, their gazes fixed on a TV broadcasting live Saudi Arabian soccer at high-volume, and the staff, Philipino women and a young Indian male waiter, keeping the men replenished with a steady flow of imported canned beer.
The menu was reasonable, quite cheaply priced and featuring mainly Indian with some Arabic food. We chose well, a beer (Fosters) each to start, a couple of Indian dishes to share, breads and rice, and a carafe of house wine, the red. The latter proved to be the challenge. Apparently the house red was unavailable, so they brought out a wine menu which had another, slightly more expensive one. We ordered that, but it too was not on hand, red apparently only able to be provided by the glass. It came out, chilled, in mismatching champagne flutes and, by the look, measured by nip rather than glass.
As the soccer progressed and spectators became more boisterous, we noticed by chance the food arriving, delivered in plastic bags presumably from a nearby takeaway, each dish sealed in gladwrap. An interesting process indeed for a restaurant to order in food to serve its guests. Then, inexplicably, a jug of red wine arrived, chilled and with a lid to keep it cold.
This might read like a bad review but it certainly isn’t the case. The food was delicious, the wine more than drinkable, and the staff went out of their way to ensure that their not-so-usual clientele had an enjoyable evening. The waiter was attentive and eager, and seemed so pleased that he was able to serve wine in flutes. The bill later revealed that the initial “nips” of red may just have been a sample to see if we liked it. But most of all, the evening was one of life’s little vignette’s, allowing us to enjoy a few hours totally immersed in someone else’s world but without intruding. So good, we went back the next night, and the red wine was waiting.