The day had come to cross into yet another country, this time from the UAE into Oman. We decided to take a small border, and so as we were already in Al Ain, the Meyziad border was our choice. Before crossing, we went up Jebel Hafeet and saw Al Ain at our feet. We met some lovely Omanis and had a brief chat; if this border was closed for foreigners, we could always go up a little north and take the Buraimi border.

From our friend Sander we had heard of the Hafeet tombs on one side of the feet of the mountain. I had looked for an indication of whereabouts, but not found anything on internet. That morning however I had picked up a magazine from the hotel with… an article and route description of how to reach the tombs!!! And so we took the right turn next to the school, leaving the road going onto a sand path, over a little hill, past the camel farms, in the direction of the foot of the mountain, a little bit at an angle of two o’clock. And yes, there they were! Domes of stones, in ruins, some still complete. A special site to visit. Later on we would discover similar tombs in Bat in Oman.

It was towards 15h30 that we reached the border and arranged our visa for Oman at customs. No problem for us, but… no entry for a right hand drive (rhd) car! That’s what the Chief of Customs decided. It was so fortunate Saeed had done some research online the night before and had come across the Adventure Bug, the website of Elayne, Chris and their car Viktor, a rhd delight from Australia. They had arrived per boat in Salalah and their car had been stuck in the harbour for four days. In the end, the car had come out of customs, had been let into Oman and ended up at a motor show in Muscat where they met the Sultan and received an official apology of the Head of Omani Police, who was going to make sure the whole police force was informed that a rhd car was not a problem. Now, this was all in the webpage Saeed has saved on his phone, but the Chief Customs at Meyziad border didn’t want to know about this (“Mamnoo ol vorud!”), unless we would have a document with signature of the Head of Police. A younger officer took on our case and started to make phone calls. It was 17h45 in the mean time and turned out the Head of Omani Police had gone home for the day. We could try to reach him again tomorrow morning. I was optimistic and thought we get some food, spend the night sleeping in no-man’s land and tomorrow morning we would obtain the necessary signature and be let through. Saeed was a bit more pessimistic and thought we should have prepared ourselves better. Afin, we went for dinner at a restaurant across the border, a 5-minute walk, and when we returned, I started to prepare the car. Had to do some tidying up and then move stuff from the back to the front so we could sleep. Some young Omani business men, who had observed Saeed talking to customs and so on, joined us and started a conversation with Saeed, hearing our story. A police car passed by and they called them over. Some words spoken, another police car turned up. It seemed to be the Head of the local police, who made a few phone calls and then welcomed us into Oman. “Follow me.” And so, without even our luggage being checked, we entered into Oman at 20h45!

But what now? We didn’t have a car insurance and that was obliged, so I suggested to park just after the border, walk back and get the insurance sorted at the customs office. “No,” said Saeed, “we’ll get that sorted first thing tomorrow morning in the first city we’ll pass through.” And so we drove into Oman, had no idea where to go, and ended up at a fuel station on the road, to spend the night.

The next day, the first city was Ibri and so the hunt for insurance started. Three months was the minimum, at a much higher fee than they charged at the border. But what choice did we have? So fortunate we got this sorted as when we were stopped by the police, just for random checks, they always asked for the insurance papers.