I am not a born adventurer， which is not to say that the appeal of the unfamiliar or the power of nature is lost on me； nor do I suffer from a lack of curiosity. But I don’t like heights， and I’m not particularly fond of not knowing what comes next.

So when I find myself some 9，000 feet above sea level， tiptoeing along a narrow path on the side of Jebel Shams—the highest mountain in Oman and part of the Al Hajar range， which curves along the Arab country’s northern coast—I can’t help but think that I’ve come a long way. Below me are the unforgiving， Wadi Ghul 1）rusty brown 2）ravines of Wadi Ghul， known as the Grand Canyon of the Middle East； above， the 3）jagged peaks seem to rise higher and higher into cloudless skies.

“So do you feel like 4）Indiana Jane yet？” asks my French boyfriend， Jerome， who is waiting for me to catch up. He grew up in the Alps and for him happiness is climbing up， skiing down or just looking at a mountain.

“A little，” I say， watching where I put my feet， as the so-called trail is barely 5）perceptible. I wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t confirmed that the 6）cragged facades look steeper than they really are. We reach a bend where the cliffs form a towering U-shape around us， then we sit on a 7）boulder and eat an orange.

We don’t say much； it feels somehow impolite to disturb the quiet. Two days before， we’d set out on the five-day， 500-mile road trip from Abu Dhabi， in the 8） United Arab Emirates， to Muscat， the capital of Oman， in search of such serenity. That， and the diverse and rugged landscapes for which Oman is known， including towering mountain ranges， stretches of untouched desert and 9）lush oases tucked in rocky canyons.

We’d left Abu Dhabi before dawn， stopping in the desert between there and Al Ain—the Emirate’s second largest city—to go dune-driving at sunrise. We tore through stretches of camel-colored sand， me sitting in the back seat of our Nissan Patrol， Jerome at the wheel， Jimi Hendrix’s Voodoo Child blasting from the stereo. I 10）squealed as a mix of 11）elation and 12）nausea took hold.

From there， we headed east into Oman. Jerome marveled at the highway that had been a dirt road when he last visited the country a decade ago； mosques and houses were being built by the dozen， rising from the otherwise barren lands that 13）flank the highway. The further we went， the more building sites， road extensions and infrastructure improvements we saw； Oman feels like an entire land under construction. And， in fact， it sort of is； in the next five years the country plans to spend $8 billion to build some 7，500 miles of road.

Deep in the Al Hajar range， in an area known for its temperate climate and terrace-style orchards， where 14）pomegranates， 15）apricots， apples and figs have been grown for centuries， we spent the night at a cliff-side hotel on Jabal Akhdar （Green Mountain）. Our room offered views of verdant mountaintops and plunging 16）gorges that seemed to swallow the sun at dusk.

The next morning， we roamed the pomegranate orchards of the Saiq Plateau. By mid-afternoon we headed for Nizwa， one of the country’s oldest cities， where we visited the Nizwa Fort， a 17）cylindrical 17th-century defense tower that is an imposing example of traditional Islamic architecture， with intricate detailing and a 18）symmetric building style. We spent the early evening perusing silver shops—Nizwa is famous for its chased and pierced jewelry. Then， while sitting on plastic chairs in a parking lot across from the 19）souk， we ate the best chicken 20）shawarma of our lives to the sound of evening prayer.

Some 12 hours later， we’re sitting on a boulder and eating our orange， with no other humans in sight. The sense of being the last two people on earth makes it impossible to avoid getting a bit reflective， and I think about the privilege of being out of one’s normal context and comfort zone.

I wonder if I am catching on to this adventure thing， as we’re back in the car and making our way down the mountain via steep， unpaved strips of rocky earth that take us through Wadi Bani Awf—a gorge that is considered Oman’s most thrilling 21）off-road experience. The four-hour descent is spectacular and terrifying； the only things stopping the car from tumbling into a ravine are Jerome， who learned to drive on the icy roads of Chamonix， and a bit of luck. Longhair mountain goats scale cliffs as we pass through the tiny， remote town of Balad Sayt， situated in an oasis of palm trees， before emerging from the rocky trail and finding our way back to the highway.

We drive the remaining 100 miles or so toward Muscat， where we’ll spend the next day lying on the beach， 22）haggling at the Old Muttrah Souk， 23）ogling Sultan Qaboos bin Said Al Said’s palace and admiring the coastline dotted with elegant white houses， before heading back to Abu Dhabi for a flight home.

As we approach Muscat by night we pass the spectacularly lit Grand Mosque， which dominates the low skyline， its glowing dome an ornate sphere floating atop tons of pale Indian sandstone.

And then we pass it again， and again， stuck in a maze of roadwork and detours that seem to get more tangled at every turn. Recent changes to the highway have rendered our 2012 map useless， and the city is apparently so much in 24）flux that even our GPS can’t keep up. I consider turning on my iPhone to see if that little blue dot will help us find our way， but I decide we should allow ourselves to be lost， at least for a little while.

我不是一個天生的冒險家，這并不是說未知事物或者自然力量對我沒有吸引力，也不是說我缺乏好奇心。但是我不喜歡高處，也不是特別喜歡那種不知道接下來會發(fā)生什么的感覺。

因此當我發(fā)現(xiàn)自己身處海撥高度約9000英尺之上，踮著腳沿著杰貝爾夏姆斯山的一條狹窄通道行走時，我不禁想到自己已經(jīng)走了很長一段路。杰貝爾夏姆斯山是阿曼最高的山，也是艾爾哈賈爾山脈的一部分，這條山脈圍繞著阿拉伯國家的北部海岸。我的腳下就是無情的銹棕色瓦迪古勒溝壑，有“中東大峽谷”之稱；而往上看，則是鋸齒狀的山峰，節(jié)節(jié)攀升，仿佛一直延伸至無云的天際里。

“有感覺自己像是女版印第安納·瓊斯嗎？”我的法國男友杰羅姆這樣問道，他正等著我跟上去。他從小在阿爾卑斯山長大，對于他而言，幸福就是攀山、滑雪或就只是盯著一座山看。

“有一點兒，”我邊回答道，邊留心著下腳處，因為那所謂的小道幾乎微不可察。要不是確信崎嶇的山勢實際上并沒有看起來那么陡峭，我現(xiàn)在絕不會站在這里。接著我們到達了一個轉(zhuǎn)彎處，峭壁在我們周圍形成了一個高聳的U形，我們坐在一塊大圓石上吃了個橙子。

我們并沒有說太多話，總感覺打破這份寧靜是件不禮貌的事。兩天前，我們從阿拉伯聯(lián)合酋長國的阿布扎比市出發(fā)，進行為期五天、全程長達500英里的自駕游，目的地是阿曼的首都馬斯喀特，只為尋找這樣的寧靜。除此之外，還能欣賞到阿曼那多種多樣、崎嶇陡峭的著名地形風貌，包括高聳入云的山脈、連綿不絕的沙漠和巖石峽谷中郁郁蔥蔥的綠洲。

黎明之前，我們就離開了阿布扎比市，在阿布扎比市和阿萊茵—阿拉伯聯(lián)合酋長國的第二大城市—之間的沙漠停留，日出之時我們在那兒的沙丘上駕駛。我們穿過了長長的駱駝色沙丘，我坐在東風日產(chǎn)途樂越野車后座，杰羅姆在駕駛，音響大聲播著吉米·亨德里克斯的《巫毒之子》。當興奮感和惡心感同時襲來之時，我開始尖叫起來。

我們從那里向東行駛到阿曼。杰羅姆驚嘆道，眼前這條公路在十年前他拜訪阿曼時還只是一條泥土路；高速公路兩旁原本貧瘠的土地上也建起了大量的清真寺和房子。我們走得越遠，就看到越多的建筑工地、道路擴建和基建項目；感覺整個阿曼都在建設(shè)中。而事實上，確實如此；在未來五年里，阿曼計劃投入80億美元來建造大約7500英里公路。

在艾爾哈賈爾山脈深處，有一個地區(qū)以溫和氣候和梯田果園而聞名，在那里，幾個世紀以來，石榴、杏子、蘋果和無花果被廣為種植。我們在雅巴爾艾和達爾山（綠山）上的崖邊旅館過夜。在我們的房間可以觀看到青翠的山頂，還有陡斜的峽谷，看起來就像是要吞噬傍晚時分的夕陽。

第二天早晨，我們游逛了塞奇高原上的石榴果園。下午三點左右我們出發(fā)前往尼茲瓦，這個國家最古老的城市之一，在那里我們參觀了尼茲瓦城堡—建于17世紀的一座圓柱形防御塔，典型的傳統(tǒng)伊斯蘭風格建筑，以錯綜復雜的細節(jié)設(shè)計和對稱的建筑風格著稱。我們花了整個傍晚細細瀏覽銀飾店—尼茲瓦也因其精美的浮雕和鏤空珠寶首飾而聞名。接著，坐在露天市場對面停車場的塑料椅子上，伴隨著晚禱聲，我們吃掉了此生吃過的最好吃的雞肉沙瓦瑪烤肉卷。

大約12個小時后，我們坐在圓石上吃橙子，周圍荒無人煙。那種作為地球上最后兩個人類的感覺，使我們不得不陷入沉思，而我當時想到了那種置身于平常處境和舒適區(qū)之外的自由。

當我們回到車里，沿著陡峭、未經(jīng)鋪砌且崎嶇的小山路下山，去往瓦迪貝尼奧夫時—一個被稱為擁有阿曼最驚心動魄的越野體驗的峽谷，我不知道自己是否突然領(lǐng)悟到這種冒險的意義所在。長達四個小時的下坡路實在是壯觀和驚險；如果說有什么能夠阻止汽車撞入峽谷，那就是杰羅姆，他是在夏蒙尼結(jié)冰的路面上學會了開車的，再者就是一點點運氣了。當我們經(jīng)過偏遠的巴拉德塞特小鎮(zhèn)時，看見長毛山羊正攀登著上懸崖。小鎮(zhèn)坐落于一片棕櫚樹綠洲中，然后，我們走出了巖石小道，回到了公路上。

我們向著馬斯喀特開去，走完剩下大約100英里的路程。我們將在那里度過接下來的一天，可以躺在沙灘上曬日光浴，在老穆特拉露天市場討價還價，瞻仰蘇丹卡布斯賽義德王朝的宮殿，或是欣賞點綴著優(yōu)雅白色房子的海岸線，這些都是我們在返回阿布扎比市乘飛機回家之前能夠好好享受的。

黑夜來臨，我們駛進馬斯喀特，經(jīng)過壯觀的亮燈大清真寺，襯著低矮的天際線，其發(fā)光的圓頂—一個華麗的球體，飄浮在數(shù)噸灰白的印度砂巖之上。

然后我們一遍又一遍地經(jīng)過那里，陷入布滿小道和彎路的迷宮中，越走便似乎變得越復雜。最近改建的公路已經(jīng)使得我們那張2012年的地圖無用武之地，而這個城市顯然一直在變化，以至于全球定位系統(tǒng)都跟不上道路變化。我考慮過開啟蘋果手機看看小藍點是否能幫助我們找到方向，但是我認為我們應(yīng)該讓自己繼續(xù)迷失，至少還可以再迷失一會兒。