A beautiful place not meant for all to see

I know a beautiful place. I’m going to tell you how amazing it is. But I’m not going to tell you how to find it.
The noise of the crashing waves as they reached the shore was deafening but it caused little concern to us as we were perched on a cliff overlooking an infinite sea. It was a good 24 degrees Celsius and the crackling sound of the little bonfire we had going created a beautiful symphony.
I was on a trip with Oman Outdoor Adventure showing a friend from Dubai around and just when I thought I knew all the beautiful spots in south Al Sharqiyah Governorate, it yielded yet another that would soon enter my top 10 best places in Oman.
“Free from commercialisation, it is to me, the best spot to watch turtles lay their eggs,” shared Ahmed al Jabri, the group leader.
When it comes to Oman’s best-kept secrets, I trust Ahmed when he said I’ll be surprised.
We arrived in the area when it was almost sunset. Ahmed said it was his secret place and very few people knew about it.
Except for the barastis that the “guards’ used as their temporary shelters while securing the area, there was nothing man-made in sight for kilometres. The other indication that people had been there are the bonfire areas where the fire and dark smoke created a dent in the earth.
We went there at a perfect time. The moon was big and bright even at 7 pm which meant that even if we were on the cliff, we can clearly see the activities going on at the beaches nearby.
There was no need to set up a tent for us. We simply laid mats and comforters on the ground and used the car as the shield from the strong wind.
By 8 pm, they started coming. Two of them at first and another pair a few minutes later. As the night dragged on, their number grew.
The truth is, it was a party — one that I was but a silent observer. From the water they emerged, one by one, at a slow and steady pace.
When they got to a safe spot, they started digging. They have all the time in the world.
Somewhere far away, some foxes were also gawking… waiting, conspiring. It was life, one that you don’t often get to see.
They came, dozens of them, some late into the night. It was a cycle. These mother turtles are just doing what their mothers did before them. They eventually all come back to the same place where they were nested.
They laid their eggs and covered it with sand. The process was slow but steady and once their deed for the evening was done, they inched back their way into the embrace of the sea.
In the photo attached, I am waiting for the last of them going back to sea.
I watched them fascinated. I watched them with awe. In silence, I gained a better understanding of the world. It isn’t just mine. I have my own beach, my own island as they do.
The moment to me was magical. Far from Ras al Jinz, in some forgotten beach somewhere, these turtles also come by the dozens and seeing them from afar itched the memory in my head forever. I witnessed magic.
I was planning to write a decent piece about the place — an article that detailed where and how to get there. But I realised that there are things that are best hidden to protect the sanctity of the lives that just want their peace.
I was an intruder into that world and I can’t possibly encourage more.
I discovered a beautiful place. I’m going to tell you about it but I’m not going to tell you how to go there. It is enough that Ras al Jinz is where many of us have to go to witness something awe-inspiring.

YERU EBUEN
yeru.ebuen@gmail.com