So this Dalma trip? Almost didn’t happen. Planning felt like wrestling camels blindfolded. Found scraps online, half conflicting, most outdated. Here’s how my “perfect trip” actually went down – grab some tea.
The Absolute Mess of Getting There
Step one: Permits. Ha! Everyone said “easy online form.” Bull. First website link? Dead. Second one? Wanted info I didn’t have. Spent three hours clicking dead ends. Finally called some tourism office number someone mumbled in a forum. Waited on hold forever. Lady barely spoke English. Got the permit, printed it five times. Felt like winning the lottery.
Boat Tickets? More Like Boat Nightmares
Thought buying tickets was simple. Show up, pay, board. Nope. Get to the pier in Abu Dhabi early morning. Sun already baking. See multiple ticket windows. Pick the shortest line. Big mistake. Turns out, that window only for locals or some nonsense. Got waved away after 30 minutes. Another line for tourists. Longer. Moved slower than a sleepy camel. Finally got tickets after sweating buckets.
The Island Itself: Surprisingly Chill
Once landed? Relief. Place felt… simple. Little town. Quiet.
- Tried finding ancient tombs. Everyone raves. Directions? “Near the big radio tower.” Which big radio tower? Three big towers! Wandered dusty roads like an idiot.
- Wanted fish lunch. No fancy restaurants. Found a shack by the water. Pointed at fresh fish, guy grilled it right there. Charred bits and all. Best meal I had in months. Cheap too.
- Dug wells exploration. My main goal. Maps useless. Asked locals. Got lots of hand waving. Ended up walking towards some scrappy hills. Found a few! Crumbling, just holes in the ground really. Cool to see, but manage expectations.
Snorkeling Disaster Turned Okay
Brought my own gear. Guide books said “crystal clear waters.” Mine looked murky. Dove in anyway. Sand kicked up, visibility zero. Got bumped by something big – probably just a confused turtle, scared me silly. Tried a different spot later, less people. Saw some colorful fish. Not amazing, but okay. Sunscreen melted into soup in my bag.
Leaving? Another Headache
Big Mistake: Didn’t double-check return boat times. “Frequent departures,” they said. Got to the dock at 3 PM. Next boat? 6 PM. Sat on a hot metal bench for three hours. Flies were my only company. Read the crumpled permit five times. Deeply regretted not packing more water.
My “Perfect Trip” Tips? For Real Humans
- Permits: Call the dang tourism office. Don’t rely on websites.
- Tickets: Go INSANELY early to the pier. Pick the window marked “TOURISTS” – if you can find it.
- Food: Embrace the shacks. Fresh fish is king. Forget fancy.
- Sights: Ask locals, but ask SPECIFICALLY. “Big tower” ain’t cutting it. Prepare for dusty walks.
- Boats Back: Write down the return times. Twice. Triple-check before you leave the island.
- Snorkel: Pack gear if you must, but water clarity? Pure luck. Lower expectations.
Final Thought? Went chasing historical wonders and quiet beaches. Found confusion, heat, and excellent grilled fish. Was it perfect? Hell no. Authentic? Absolutely. Would I go again? Maybe… after forgetting the 3-hour dock wait. Bring serious patience. And extra water. Helpful my foot, it’s essential.
Sharing this because all those glossy “perfect getaway” posts? They’re lying. My phone died twice from the heat, my map blew into the sea, and my hat flew off during the boat ride. That’s Dalma Island. Got some character scars now. Totally worth it, I think.