We stand at the cradle of globalization and are at least two and a half thousand years too late.
Had we arrived in time, we would now see the traders of India's Pepper Coast bartering their precious spices in the lagoon of Wadi Darbat for the even more precious frankincense, that legendary tree resin which drives away even the breath of death.
We saw merchants from Mesopotamia, sailors from Persia and the Omani Bedouins loading their caravans for the long march across the Rub al-Kali, the largest sandy desert on earth, for the Pharaohs of Egypt to embalm with the sweat of the gods and the Emperors in Rome with the scent of life.
And we might even see the Queen of Sheba's emissaries nearby,
Jakob Strobel and Serra
deputy head of the feature section.
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Instead, we face the ruins of Sumhuram in the extreme south of Oman, the remains of a city that long existed only as a myth until twenty-five years ago, thanks to Italian archaeologists, it became a certainty: Sumhuram is in fact the port that was the hub for a millennium of the worldwide trade in frankincense - this gift of the gods, which was highly coveted not only because of its cultic qualities, but also as a medicine, as a cortisone and antibiotic of antiquity, weighed with gold and silver and nowhere to be obtained in such a pure form as from the Boswellia Trees in southern Oman with its limestone soils and the ideal mix of desert drought and heavy monsoon rains.
Today, Sumhuram is an Omani Mycenae, surrounded by a double ring of limestone ashlars.
We see little more than the foundations of residential buildings and warehouses, the remains of the temple to the moon god Sin and the deep well that guaranteed survival in any siege, plus a few ancient Arabic inscriptions and a handful of camels preying on a dhow, the traditional Arabian sailing boat, picturesquely grazing on the lagoon - and yet are overwhelmed by this place, where imagination and reality come together so happily.
Because the history of globalization is being seamlessly continued and frankincense is still sold in the bazaars of Salalah, the largest city in southern Oman, as naturally as it was in the days of the Queen of Sheba: as perfume or massage oil,
as bean-sized lumps or as a fragrant paste, flavored with saffron, sandalwood or cardamom.
And suddenly in Sumhuram we feel like we weren't late after all.