Westerners in Oman often have the sense of inhabiting parallel universe; there are all the familiar expressions of the mobile phone culture, and then there are the camels. Camels cruise through Muscat at 100 km hour, head and hump sticking out of a Toyota pick-up, apparently at home in the fast lane. Or they plod in from the dunes at Bowsher, transporting a be-sandaled passenger along the slow lane of the motorway.

The image of the camel-owning, grizzled, gun-toting jebbali is an enduring on e and hard for Omanis to eschew. It is also ridiculously one-dimensional. The same jebbali, kettle in hand, barefoot and hitching, is just as likely to pull a mobile phone from his undershirt.

Making sense of this country – with its coastline of turtles and sardines, mountains of apricots and watchtowers, a share of the Empty Quarter and a region that looks like Surrey for three months of the year – could keep the visitor intrigued for months. Oman is not the easiest of destinations, particularly for lone travellers on a tight budget and solely reliant on public transport.