EVENTS | Beats By The Beach with DJ Franck Chartier, at Muscat Hills Resort

Beats By The Beach with DJ Franck Chartier, at Muscat Hills Resort

A friend sent me a WhatsApp message to attend "Beach By The Beach" on Jan. 26th in Muscat Hills Resort and since I enjoy EDM/House mixes, I decided to go. It's been a while since I actually partied in Muscat. Last was in Park Inn during the "Wet Republik 3". And I badly needed to go out and unwind. Friend's invitation came at the right time. Brought with me my new colleague, who just started in our company.  

It was around 9pm when I picked a friend from the hotel. I was driving the car, which meant I could not drink for this night. So there I was, ready to go out and drive to Qantab (which is very close to Shangri-La Barr Al Jissah; and I never fail to bring up this point every single time). The road to Qantab via the Ruwi or Al Bustan roads is always a treat for the eyes. What with the winding roads that feel like riding a roller coaster. One time I was sitting as passenger and the driver accelerated; flew the car for about a moment and the feeling was heaven; the same excitement I felt when I was a kid riding those big caterpillars in fairs.  

The Barr Al Jissah road, lit with lamp posts every few meters looked like jewels from afar. The drive was swift; not many cars traversing at this day and time (it was a weekend by the way). After a few minutes, we passed by the newly opened Muscat Bay, a posh residential compound aimed to invite expats and locals for a chance to live away from the hustle and bustle of the Muscat city life. The thought didn't really bother me much i.e. living in a far flung location; but at the back of mind is the nagging question, "Who wants to drive that far?". But perhaps it's only me, being my pessimistic self.

We reached the familiar roundabout- my landmark for the location of Muscat Hills. One exits on the right and he goes to Yiti; go straight ahead and one ends up in Shangri-La. As for us, we take the left and descends to the gate f the resort. The security personnel asked, "You on guest list?", I confirmed, Then we were ushered towards the booth. Took us no time to park the car, and when we reached the entry booth, three Caucasian guests were paying for their entrance. I was cool the whole time. I didn't have to pay 'coz I was on the guestlist. "Guestlist?" the blonde girl on the other side of the desk asked. I confirmed. Then she asked for 15 OMR each.

It must have been a mistake, I suppose. Had to call my friend and told her we were being charged. "Tell her you are under Obaid's guestlist." I obliged. And true enough, the blonde lady gave us the pass wristbands. Proof that you really cannot trust blondes.

Now inside, I barely recognized the place. It used to have that homely and welcoming atmosphere to it. The kind that invites families. The kind that makes laughter and fun resonate in the air, over and over until the stillness of the dark blankets this patch of land waiting for another morn to dawn. Now, Muscat Hills is an image of a commercialized hip venue catering to the party thirsty crowd. It also has that vigor sense to it, as if telling 'I'm the new generation.' I see crowds of people busy in their enclosed worlds; while the bar is filled with liquor which promises temporary escape from life's misery. Ah, and did I mention the sole Omani sitting by the counter. He's the only local wearing the traditional dishdasha that night, drowning himself with his draught beer.

It wasn't a big place; not at all. Too lit for my liking but bright lights never really bothered me. The pools were still there though now the added two jacuzzi's. I thought, this will be perfect for Summer but definitely not a chilly January night. Several cabanas now litter the shore, replacing the once basic sheds made from palm trees. Everything has changed I see. Correction, the old place is now gone to antiquity. Muscat Hills has now eclipsed its predecessor and the newcomers will never know about its past apart from occasional photos and stories of yonder.

We decided to sit by one of those high desks. Colleague now puffing his third cigarette for the night. Then comes these two topless guys obviously brandishing their recently waxed bodies. Third guys comes at them and was like, "seriously"; and as I look at them from a distance, I thought it would have been perfect if it was Summer; but it was not Summer. Nonetheless, these two guys would be great in a "real" party crowd; because the way EDMs and house party goes (at least to me) is when people just have a good time not minding at all what others would think.

The DJ was oblivious of his surrounding. He was busy curating his mixes which filled the plce the whole time. It was one of those 'not so bad' moments where you just gotta on with the flow. I've heard better mixes in the past but hey I'm not complaining. I move my feet with the beat half hoping there was a decent floor to frolic. There was a small patio with some guests dancing but I just didn't fee like jumping in. I guess it's not just the music that makes the place extraordinary; also takes the right people with the right attitude.

At 9:30pm, I called it a day. Decided to move to Trader Vic's instead.