I have tried for you: living in Muscat. Chapter 5, I like it here.

I used to hate routine. Routine meant being boring, and a grown up. Ewwww. Until recently, being a grown up was the last thing on my list. And then I decided I liked being one.

Here in Muscat, I live for my routine. I try and stick to a few things in my day which make me truly happy and comes 6 o'clock, comes my favourite time of day which I wouldn't miss for anything.

I try as much as I can to be outdoors, or at least out of the office when the sun goes low. It is at this precise hour we call in French "entre chien et loup", literally "between dog and wolf", which I am more tempted to rename "between pink and blue", as far as Oman is concerned. It is that very time when the heat balance gets inverted, when warmth doesn't come from up above anymore, but from down below, when the sun is being eaten by the sea, and the air suddenly becomes breathable, while the earth is releasing a day worth of accumulated heat and odors.

The sunset in Muscat lasts for long and the air is filled with the most amazing scents. Grilled meat, roasting flowers, fire, an earthy smell whirlwinds in the breeze. A great quietness fills the atmosphere, everything becomes peaceful at once, and suddenly every single bird around starts singing. It is the most impressive feeling, of peacefulness filled with what could be noise, but echoes as quietness.

At that very time of day, I am usually sitting outside a coffee, on a beach, taking it all in. I am in the middle of it, right now, looking at capoeira dancers, brown skins and white trousers, groups of kids and mums, fully clothed, swimming in the sea, Omani families taking a stroll and 4x4 driving past. The light is amazing, orangy-pink, with a hint of sadness. Yet another day has gone.

The temperature is dropping and the air becomes soft and light on the skin. The ground is now releasing the heat it has stored over the day, and my feet are burning through the sole of my shoes, radiating in my legs.

People turn into shadows against the sky. The big Mosque must be lit already, and soon I will drive across a Muscat getting ready for prayer, calling another day to sleep in the songs of the muezzins.
I embrace that time of day, every day.