Detour #236: Dhofar, So Good – An Off-Road Adventure in Oman
Ben Barry discovers Oman’s Dhofar region in an adventure-ready, all-electric Audi
Every January, the Dakar Rally puts cars, trucks and bikes through motorsport hell as teams battle across desert stages in searing heat. Detour has not come to Dakar, or even Saudi Arabia, where the rally is actually held these days.
Instead I am in Oman, officially the Sultanate of Oman, a nation of five million that slots onto the eastern end of the Arabian Peninsula like the corner piece of a jigsaw. But I am driving a car called Dakar – the Audi Q8 e-tron Dakar to be precise, a limited run inspired by the rather more specialised machine that Audi campaigns in the rally.
E-tron is also Audi-speak for zero-emissions electric power, a fact that’s slightly alarming given this petrostate has but 100 charge points scattered over a land mass four times larger than Scotland.
My base is Salalah. The Sultanate’s third-largest city is set in the far south west of the Dhofar region, itself in Oman’s south west, and is famous for its frankincense tree (this eludes me, though I purchase both frankincense and myrrh soap at the airport) while the white sand of Dhareez beach is just a short walk from the hotel.
Temperatures sit in the mid- to high 20s, a light breeze blows in from the Arabian Sea… what a welcome respite from the British winter.
I head out of town, driving west then north on the first leg of a loop that curves like a summer toboggan run over the landscape.
The roads are dusty if well surfaced and there’s precious little traffic, though occasionally large trucks plod cumbersomely uphill and more often classic Toyota Land Cruiser pick-ups zoom like the throttle’s stuck open. Speeders beware: camels, donkeys and cows roam here, all owned by someone if rarely constrained by boundaries.
Initially this feels a pretty barren landscape, but when I stop at a look-out near Titam, surprisingly verdant moutainsides run like interlocked fingers down to the distant coast. This far south, the landscape is turned green by a seasonal monsoon called Khareef.
From Titam I head back towards the coast, take the main 49 route east towards Mirbat then grab lunch at Alila Hinu Bay. I stock up just in case, because from here I’m heading away from the sealed surfaces on an off-route that again heads east, sandwiched between the 49 and the coast several miles below.
The Q8 is in its element, the generous, silent speed from its twin electric motors propelling me easily along, while its air suspension smooths the washboard surface like swan legs working eagerly beneath the surface.
This is all as per the normal Q8, but the Dakar can lift its air suspension 65mm higher than the standard car in a new Off-Road setting, fits tyre tread that’s knobbly as a bar of Whole Nut chocolate and adds a purposeful roof rack filled with useful-looking things like a bag and another chunky tyre. The vibe is more Insta- than off-road friendly, but it certainly looks purposeful smeared in a layer of dust.
After miles on loose surfaces, I get used to the Q8 languidly sliding in response to my steering inputs (it’s great fun, in fact), but I encounter gnarlier sections too, and despite Audi clearly billing the Dakar as intended for light off-roading, I creep down rocky descents and crawl over dried out riverbeds with rocks the size of bowling balls.
I would not want to get lost here – the distant hills, the road, the dust, it all merges into a palette of browns and beiges like I’ve driven into a Harper’s Bazaar autumn collection, so it’s a surprise to pull over at a wadi, with it knee-deep water, desert grasses, palm trees even.
I return to Salalah at dusk, watching lone locals gallop on horses down the beach while large groups play football. ‘Hey brother,’ says one, a surprisingly common greeting. ‘Hello,’ I say back. I wonder if he knows where to find a charging point.