A Fleeting Footprint

I could almost hear a sizzle as the cool water of the stream enveloped my overheated skin. We'd been hiking up a rocky gorge for 40 minutes and, even though it was barely 9.30am, the Omani sun was already intent on barbecuing us.

A local had told us about a valley in the Al Hajar mountains, called Wadi Shab, where people go to cool off in summer, and about a secret cave somewhere in it that is accessible only via an underwater tunnel.

Intrigued, four of us set out from Muscat to find it, planning an overnight stay so we could get an early start on our mission.

Arriving at the empty parking lot at the entrance to Wadi Shab, the first step was to haggle (unsuccessfully!) with the waiting boatmen for a short ride across the river. From the stony beach on the other side, we made our way upstream, negotiating catwalks and scrambling over boulders until we reached the point where the gorge narrowed and the easiest way to continue was just to start wading through the cool water.

We paddled through a series of natural pools, scattering dragonflies and the odd frog, until we hit a wall. Two enormous hunks of rock barred the way. At the bottom of the large crack separating them was a tiny gap and a glint of blue light. We’d found the tunnel!

As it had been a dry year, the entrance wasn't totally submerged and I was able to worm my way through with my head above water. I emerged into a deep, clear pool inside a small cave. Sunlight streamed through openings in the walls above, making the surface glitter and casting the depths in a bold, saturated turquoise.

A small waterfall cascaded down one side, the gushing of the water amplified in the small space so it sounded like a torrent. A rope so thick with mineral deposits that it was almost fossilised hung beside the waterfall and we climbed up it only to hurl ourselves back in, laughing. The cave felt like a tiny sanctuary just for us, far from the hot bustle of Muscat.

When we eventually left, the valley outside had been transformed. So empty on our way in, there were now people everywhere: families picnicking, groups of young men making music, dancing and jumping off cliffs, kids playing football on the beach. The party vibe was infectious. I wished we’d brought some food so we could stick around and soak it up a little longer.

As it was, we retreated back to the now-packed parking lot, the memory of the refreshing turquoise pool at the heart of Wadi Shab burning away in the crackling heat.