Christmas 2009

The sun was already shining outside. It was progressively getting very hot under the dome so I unzipped my sleeping bag, a few minutes later I removed my fleece, then my long sleeves cotton top, then my t-shirt. Next to me the human lump was still lying lifeless wrapped up. I prodded him to check for any sign of life. A feeble noise confirmed that he was still alive. There is a saying in my country which doesn’t quite rhyme in English that goes “Notte da leoni mattino da ..” you google the rest!

The night before (Christmas Eve) was a lion’s night; for some more than others.

I wasn’t feeling 100% so after witnessing crazy dancing, crazy talking, skinny dipping and other stuff that I shouldn’t mention here I made it into bed at about 2 AM.
I remember being woken up by a text message from my brother at 4:30 AM (thanks bro!) seeing an empty space next to me and thinking that someone had passed out on the beach I went for a exploratory tour. S. was still around the camp fire making tea with the last survivor. They stayed up late. Possibly until around 5 AM (they don’t remember exactly… and I can understand why). So this was the result in the morning.

I couldn’t take it any longer; it was really getting too hot. I unzipped the front door, I walked hurriedly and dived into the refreshing sea.

Yes that’s how I woke up to Christmas day.


The rest is all the usual: a lot of eating and cheering with good friends; a full Xmas lunch in stile, Turkey and all the trimmings. All served on a beach.

We hope you had a fantastic one too and we wish you all a very happy 2010!!

Living the dream

Warning, this next post may make you jealous.

After another day spent under the sun and below the sea I look back at my week and as I reflect upon my working days I am unable to describe the feeling of elation that gently leads me towards the end of today.

My non-rest days start early in the morning; early means that the alarm clock goes off at 5:50 giving me those extra 10 minutes of snooze time to fool my body into believing that I am actually sleeping longer, when in fact I have interrupted my dreams 10 minutes earlier than I could have done. Never mind, it works better for me this way. Early means just before sunrise at this time of the year, which translates into a terrible feat trying to open the eyes and unsteadily step off the bed when the room is still dark and the body rightly thinks that it’s still time to lie in. Nonetheless when I think about the cold dark mornings I endured back in the UK I consider myself lucky because here I don’t have to recoil when the duvet slips off to the side and I know that the sun will be kissing me in no time.

I wake up slowly over breakfast and pack my few things. My eyes still a bit stuck together I set off in my t-shirt, shorties and flip-flops. As the city wakes up so do my senses, by the time I am sitting in the car around 7 am the sun is already glowing gloriously across the blue sky unveiling the jagged silhouette of the mighty mountains in the background.

The morning drive takes me through the city jammed with white houses then over and across dramatic mountains. After leaving the long motorway, the road bends, rises and descends. About 40 km from home the view opens up over the beautiful bay of Qantab; usually unveiling a perfectly still and turquoise sea that contrasts sharply against the golden rocky coastline. Everything looks still, the rocks, the air, the sea; like a snapshot suspended in time.

That’s how my day unfolds; the variables that determine how the rest of the day develops can be many. It may be a day teaching, which in turn can mean “yaky-yaky-yaking” in the classroom, soaking in the pool for hours (and gaining a ridiculous shorty wetsuit suntan), diving in the open sea in the afternoon, a day spent on 3 straight dives in the open sea, sitting at the bottom of the marina supervising students perform their skills or guiding already certified people out in the wondrous sea (which in case of experienced divers it means an event very close to a fun dive for me).

Repeat this several days in a row and neither will ever be the same as the previous one.

The sun almost always shines, the sea has always interesting shows on display, people are always so interestingly different.

Looking back I have nothing to miss from the office job. Seriously and absolutely nothing. That is why, no matter whether I am working like crazy or chilling out on a day off, you will often find me wandering around with a permanent grin painted on my face lost in thoughts about how wonderful life is and how green the grass looks on this side of the fence (even despite the little rainfall ;) …

Art Spa

Imagine if someone put a bottle of paint in your hands and told you: “Go and squirt. Release your inner child. There is no right or wrong, just mix, overlap, superimpose, juxtapose, express yourself with the colours...”

It happened to me: I am re-emerging from an Art Spa.

An “Art what?” I hear you say…

A friend who will be soon leaving Muscat for new shores recently organized a little get together with a difference at her apartment. She invited an artist friend who provided the materials and under her guidance we unleashed our creative geniuses.

The last time I attempted at producing some form of art was in my childhood when someone had given me oil paint and canvas as a present. I never quite got to produce anything worthy of an exhibition and I never took it any further than squeezing out the last drop of colour from the last tube of paint.

Somehow at that time my idea of art was very rigid and a bit bi-dimensional. Years have gone by and I haven’t come close to any more paint since then, not even to give a new lease of life to the walls in the house (paid someone for that too!). However my creative inner spirit has always secretly dreamed of giving it another go and maybe enrolling onto some art class. Another of those things for which I keep on waiting for “the right time” (?).

So when the Art Spa invite came along I thought it sounded like an interesting experience and a fun way to spend an afternoon with friends and I signed up.

I didn’t quite know what to expect but of course in my head, under the guidance of a seasoned artist, I was already producing some art worth of Raffaello or Michelangelo so you can imagine my puzzled expression when Jenny explained that we were there to squirt paint around without looking for any specific representation if not the expression of our mood and inner guidance.

What the heck? Here we go again “modern art”: take some elephant dung, stick it onto a canvas, spray some glitter here and there, place it next to an undone bed and call it talent.

Only kidding. I did see the fun of it all and the potential: I was going to come home with a canvas full of mismatching colours and would just have to explain to everybody who asked what I actually tried and miserably failed to produce.

Whatever, I was there to have fun so I quickly dropped my preconceptions and just gave it a go.

After a timid start I actually begun to be transported by the colours, the texture and the smell of paint, inks and sprays. Images would come and go, colours would bleed into each other, lines, curves, drops and splashes would create shapes. Paint was leaking onto the canvas, hands, feet, it was everywhere.

Luckily we had been warned to wear grubby old clothes we didn’t mind chucking away and the floor had been covered up although at some point a wild squirt made the wall participate into the experience and my old t-shirt has now a couple of arty hand prints…

We first practiced on some long paper sheet, just to see how colours play together, to get the feeling for different textures and types of paint, then we moved onto our very own canvas and started producing our masterpieces.

I always philosophise on the concept of a white canvas. To me it represents possibilities. It’s the beginning, it’s birth, it’s a vacuum and yet it can become anything.

Interfering with the vibration of that white space is empowering and letting the first drop of colour plummet onto it is daunting.

Yet, I let myself go. I had no image in my head at first. I let the colours and the random shapes guide me; inspired by the colours that I am always drawn to: yellows, oranges, reds… an explosion took place and ended up with my very own version of the mighty sun.

Sunset, sunrise?

Whatever, it is energy, it is life. It is who I am. It is the child of an Art Spa.

***

Click here for info on the ArtSpa and Jenny's work.

Just an ordinary day

More and more often my mind wonders over this blog or better over the fact that lately I am finding it hard to keep it updated. I could blame it on time however the thing that bugs me the most is that time is not the only issue (time can always be found I guess). The reality is that sometimes I feel like I have run out of topics.

It seems that some friends who update their blog regularly have an infinite amount of interesting subjects to delve on, as for me I am not sure whether I have run out of creativity, my world has become increasingly “normal” and bare from striking events or maybe I have just become so accustomed to the unusual that all is looking very “usual” to my eyes.

Has my life really become routine? Not sure.

Maybe I am just suffering from a “writer’s block”.

I have taken some time to ponder over this today; re-living the past few days trying to find some event or fact that may have happened that could be classified as, “unusual”, striking, surprising, strange, funny, witty; anything worth mentioning in the blog.

I guess back home you want to know what goes on over here and how we spend our days but then I think, do you really want to know what mundane things I have been up to today?

Sometimes in life someone will casually throw in a sentence in the middle of a conversation and that seemingly innocent sentence will stick forever in your mind; once a friend talking of people wanting to write books and biographies said: “for some reason people think that their lives are the most interesting thing to talk about but really who wants to read about someone else’s life”. It is a bold statement and it has stuck to my mind for many, many years. I find it so applicable now.

Surely from my point of view I lead an interesting life out here in the Middle East and I enjoy it very much; but going from enjoying it to actually believing that it is something of any interest for someone to read about is a completely different story. So here I am trying to find remarkable events to recount that could be remotely entertaining for you back home.

BLANK!

So what is happening? A lot but it seems that nothing is out of the ordinary any more.

Take today. It is a normal day off like others. I struggled to get up as it happens on my first day off of the week… it’s amazing the amount of tiredness that builds up in just 4 days!

I would have stayed in bed a bit longer but a friend suggested breakfast at 9:00am. So by 8:30 I was out in the car negotiating the already dwindling morning traffic. Life here starts very early, most schools and jobs start at 7:30 so by 9:00 am a lot of the people who sit in cars (generalizing a lot) are late starters or expat wives starting their round of breakfasts, brunches, coffee mornings, fashion meetings, plastic surgery consultations, shopping and who knows what else.

I dodged the usual car unpredictably breaking because the driver was lost in his own world of phone calls, observed the meticulously made-up lady texting at the red lights, got slightly (it’s my day off after all) hot blooded over erratic drivers with no clear destination or deadlines and finally made it to the beautiful area with the popular coffee venues.

It was a beautiful morning. I was sitting at the café outside, under the palm trees, the beach just below, temperatures probably around 23c and the gentle noise of the sea setting me right into the mood for a lazy breakfast. It felt like the beginning of summer in Italy. So nice!

My friend arrived and we spent two fabulous hours chatting over whatever crossed our minds.

Of course I can leave it sounding all picture perfect or I can add some more revealing details like: she had to order her hot water 3 times before she could take a sip of a morning drink, ending up with a non required bottle of cold drinking water and with me finishing my coffee before she could even start brewing her tea; she had to chase the persistent (and noisy) stray cat with the shoes in her hands and I “had” to haggle with a man at the car park when I arrived to have my car hand-washed during my meal for the equivalent of 2 or 3 euros (I am too “emotional” before breakfast for any kind of negotiation). All normal!

The rest of the day was also quite mundane. A quick stop to the dry cleaners to have the dresses used at the last balls cleaned, a telephone call to book a couple of treatments for tomorrow at my usual SPA where they now recognize me and call me by name (well, more like ma’m xxx) when I walk in, another call to book a hotel room for a romantic weekend in December in one of the most exclusive hotels in town to take advantage of a REALLY good offer, spending an expensive hour chatting to my life-coach (should I actually mention this here?) and booking the restaurant in another 5-star establishment for tonight.

Add fretting over a message from the landlord saying that the company is taking time to renew the lease for the house and that the company told him that S. no longer works for them (WTF? He definitely left for work in the morning, or.. is there something he's not telling me? ;) and that's the day done.

Yes that’s it and it is all pretty much normal. The rest of the week may be a different story. Who knows?

Now do you believe me when I say that nothing out of the ordinary is happening lately?

No time to get bored

How are things over there around more northerly latitudes? I guess that winter has now settled and you are swiftly entering into the festive mood.

Mulled wine, skiing holidays…snow, hail? Maybe.

Personally, every now and then I still catch myself marveling at the fact that we are already in mid October… no November oops it’ll be December in no time. The other day I noticed the first Christmas decorations for sale in the shops. Where has all the time gone? Not sure.

The strangest feeling of all is that while at the same time last year I was still exploring and everything felt new and unfamiliar this time round all the sudden it feels as if I am circling the same block again. It is not exactly the same at all but there are a number of recurring events throughout the year which I guess we have now caught up with (annual parties, balls, national festivals and celebrations).

Yes, although it bears no negative connotation, the novelty has worn off and we are no longer the new kids in town.

The unfamiliarity has been replaced by the still surreal feeling of realization that although we’ve very much grown used to it (and enjoy it very much) we are living in the Middle East and conducting some sort of surreal life that doesn’t have any resemblance to the old way of life back in Europe. Setting aside the obvious weather differences or even the different cultural background (which doesn’t disrupt the extremely western-oriented way of life we are leading in this country) I still stop every now and then and think that maybe I should pinch myself. I can’t cease thinking that maybe one day I am going to open my eyes and realize that I am late for work, it is dark and wintry outside and I have to drag myself out of the bed and into the tube across town to start another day in the office.

Luckily that hasn’t happened yet, so we are still living the dream.

I’ve been asked before whether it gets boring living in a country where the climate bears little variation and where it is virtually sunny all year round. My reaction is always the same: “no, why should it be?” Also variation is here, we range from 50c+ in the summer to the current pleasant temperatures. I have to say that tonight for the first time I actually felt a little bit chilly at home wearing just a little shoulder strap dress and flip-flops and this morning it felt “cool” when I stepped out of the house. Yes winter is upon us, which more or less means evening temperatures similar to a summer day in England and a beautifully comfortable and dry 28c or so during the day (although it can get a bit too breezy on the boat at the end of a dive). :D

Of course we are trying to make the most of what we can. The latest addition to the diversions in our life is a boat. We’ve recently purchased a boat in co-ownership with a couple of friends and we have taken it out for a christening outing to a beautiful bay not far from Muscat all together. Useless to say that we had a blast of a time!

In addition to that we are now in full party season. This means that we have already been to a number of balls with ambassadors, military attachés and other official figures so this week we should also appear back in the party pages of the local press.More parties and holidays scheduled for the next month and 1/2 too. Diaries are getting crammed!

On another note, the other day I was back in a business suit (after almost a year!). I was asked to provide some assistance with a delegation of people from my native land over here on business so I turned into an interpreter for 2 days accompanying a business man and a business woman on a series of meetings across town culminating, as always, into a dinner at one of the plush hotels in town where I ended standing up in front of a crowd of business people of all nationalities, the ambassador and other embassy officials translating one of the delegate’s speeches.

If I think that I once wanted to do this as a career I can consider myself very lucky that I have finally had the opportunity to try this out.

As a plus I got the chance to see the swanky suites of the hotel as that was the type of accommodation arranged by the company organizing the event and some of the meetings took place in the actual the suites. I never miss a photo opportunity! ;)

Anyway I think I have rambled a bit too much again. My fault for not updating the blog more often but it is getting increasingly hard to find the time.

Please do send us your news every now and then. We may not have time to reply immediately however we do enjoy receiving your updates.

In general all is good and as you can imagine we have no time to get bored.

The mystery of the disappearing tree

It is no secret that I am rubbish at gardening; my plants suffer the pains of hell gasping for water or drowning, lacking food and in general time, attention and tender loving care. It shows. The only reason our few shrubs survive is because we are now entering winter with its more forgiving climate and the maid waters them every other day, with the exception of the ones in the flowerbed outside which she inexorably manages to neglect too.

So the potted plants in our little courtyard look just… ok, the flowerbed on the outside in the other hand looks like the front patch of an abandoned house inhabited by ghosts (see photo on the side).

I have my excuses, such as I work very long hours for 4 days a week and the last thing I want to do when I come back home in the late evenings, hungry and with hair hardened and encrusted with sea salt is to spend half hour watering the plants, battling with a cheap hose that gets stuck under the car wheels and negotiating my way between the car and the perimeter wall to reach those damn rachitic shrubs on the outside…Yes, you’ve got it; gardening just doesn’t motivate me enough; or at least until now.

Suddenly in the last few weeks, maybe taken by the sense of guilt when seeing these poor two little trees every morning on my way to work hanging on dearly to their lives against all the odds I decided it was time to take some care.

It is amazing how resilient nature can be. I have always known that nature has its ways of recovering but that plant looked absolutely dead beyond any hope so when I started watering the two little trees and the small tree started coming back from the dead (see picture of recovering tree on the side) I was more than excited to see that maybe not all was lost so I made my resolution.

The plan was to go and buy some tools and sort this front patch once and for all, planting new flowers, clearing it up from the dead stuff, killing the weed and look after these resilient trees that showed me so much hope so that eventually the flower bed will again look like a respectable green patch.

Now here comes the dilemma. I am not sure whether one of the trees fed up with the treatment received grew some legs overnight and walked away or if (more likely) some scumbag decided that they could just eradicate it and make it theirs but the fact is that one of the small trees has disappeared (the one in better condition). Just like that!

In its place just a small hole in the ground (again see photo on the side).

You have no idea of the sense of abuse that I felt when I noticed the empty space walking out of the house this morning! I really miss my tree.

It is amazing how attached one can become to living things, even plants. After all the time spent making sure that it would survive I cannot believe it is no longer there. It had become like a pet to me. So at the moment, I am really annoyed (to the point that I think if I ever found out who removed it I may become seriously abusive).

You should have seen me this morning on my way to the key cutter to cut a copy of the keys for the engines of our new boat (but that’s another story for another post) driving around the neighborhood looking at other front houses to see if I could recognize my rachitic tree..

How pathetic can I be? Yes I think I have lost it altogether!

The mystery now remains… who on earth would steal a tree and why? and is this a crime that should be reported to the police? LOL! The world is full of weirdoes and every day there are new reasons to believe it!

As for what’s next, it’s really time to take action on that flower bed. It looks ever more desolate now, without my beloved little tree!

Oman a year on

Time flies! That's what I hear everybody say. Let me add that apart from those 3 infernal months in the summer time seems to fly even faster over here.

The year milestone of our lives here in Oman has come and gone. So what's the verdict? Well let's see. After a year no doubt we have settled.

Here are a few highlights of the last 13 months in a country that we now call home

• Making lots of new friends of different nationalities and backgrounds and learning about so many different ways of life
• Moving into a big house and going shopping for furniture with the company's money :D
• Beach bumming at the Yacht Club when we feel lazy at the weekend and can't be bothered to do anything
• Playing boules against the French at the annual international boules tournament and lose miserably ;)
• Crossing the desert and the salt flats to end up in one of the most beautiful beaches in Oman down in Bar Al Hickmann
• Getting lost up around the mountains on a camping trip to Ibra Tombs and having our friends start a search and recovery tour to try to find us then seeing their faces when we turn up at the camp and explain that the true reason for being that late was that we left hours later than planned and that we actually stopped for lunch.
• A visit to the Public Notary with Maura which saw us floading the notary's office with a bunch of men willing to help us with instantaneous tranlation
• Watching turtles laying eggs and small hatchlings running for life in the early hours of the morning at Ras Al Jinz (many times)
• Laying around a bonfire under a perfect canopy of stars during the night in the desert
• Feeling the heart racing on my first go at dune bashing climbing up a high dune on our 4x4 in the desert
• Screaming like a kid and sensing the need to open the door and jump out of the car at S.'s first attempt to come down a huge dune ;)
• Finally attending my Instructor Development Course, graduating succesfully and crowning the dream of working as a Diving Instructor in tropical waters
• Learning how to read Arabic script and munching a few basic words of Arabic
• Our pit stops at the Crowne Plaza for sundowners after work
• Popping to Dubai for a shopping spree and generally spending stupid money on meals and treats and not feeling guilty about it
• Going on holiday and still feeling happy about coming back home when the holiday is up because really our time off back home is like a permanent vacation
• Soon becoming the proud owners of a leasure boat :D

In general living a life of comfort for a bunch of acceptable compromises

Something to look forward to: winter

What can I say? I know it’s been quiet on the blog front.

My excuses are: summer is a time for reflection (too hot to do anything else), I have dozed out under the spell of the unbearable heat and the constant humming of the A/C, I’ve been away (every respectable expat cleverly plans the escape around the month of Ramadan) and I plainly couldn’t be bothered. So I took a holiday from the blog.

You know when you have so many things to do! ;)

Although summer IS certainly a quiet period things have nonetheless been happening. Amongst the ones worth mentioning is that the anniversary of my move to Oman has come and gone, yes just like that! September 15th 365 days later!

I’ll try to dedicate a post to the highlights of the past year soon.

Other events include an impromptu holiday to Egypt which saw us experiencing the worst flight of our lives (you know that the plane you are flying on is old when bits fall off the emergency door during flight (and one of the pilots alerted by the alarm comes out to check it and sort it out.. uh?), you still have ashtrays on the armrests, the seat covers are ripped and hanging off the seats like old theatre curtains and you hear a worrying sucking noise through a whole by the emergency door as you glance at the wing and hope that this is not going to be your last landing!!!). The same holiday also saw me slashing my foot open in the attempt to try out kite surfing (no, honest it is good fun) and believing for 24hrs that my iPhone and my designer sunglasses had been stolen respectively from my bag while in a bar and from my hotel room on our last day of the holiday (just to find out that one was carelessly thrown into the suitcase while packing at 3am in the morning and the other had somehow gone walking around the bar and found its way back to my Regional Manager who lives in the area .. so while I write my iPhone is still on holiday in Egypt until the boss brings it here on his business trip at the end of September).

Therefore things do happen! Just I have had no energy to write about it. Summer has truly worn me out so while you are dreading the long winter already announced by the first few cold days and the usual rain here we are very much looking forward to it and we are already starting to feel the bliss. Lots to look forward to.

The end of Ramadan (tomorrow is the last day) marks the beginning of the new winter activities, I start working and the good weather will see us beach bumming for the next 8 months. J

Amongst the projects for this winter we are back into the idea that owning a boat is a good one so today we went to test one out at sea with a friend and we were rather pleased with the experience (a glimpse of it on the side). So watch this space.

The busy season is starting again…and let me add: at last!

You've got mail and it's 8 months fresh

Oman has an interesting snail mail system. Post is not delivered to your 8 digit home address consisting of a home number and way number but only to a PO BOX.
I guess it is easier, or instead of writing the address you'd have to draw a map!

Apparently it is notoriously difficult to get your own PO Box. I have heard that there aren't many free and you have to put yourself on a waiting list. We never bothered and we use, like most of the people we know, the office PO Box. It seems to work or anyway, if paper mail is missing I am not too sure we'd notice...

I am used to S. coming back home every now and then with a bunch of paper and useless junk that miracolously works its way through from the UK with the mail redirection. Will I ever get rid of this junk mail??

So today was one of those days. I got my mail, including a payslip for a UK job that I no longer hold. Yes the one that terminated at the end of January.

I thought it would be the P60.. but when I started looking through it I thought... "wow! it's Christmas again! What's this for?" I searched for the date... it was my November pay, unfortunately the one I have already spent.

I turned the envelope over: the stamp reads LONDON 21.11.08 - a true blast from the past!

To be fair I do not think the problem lies with the Omani post system. The delivery address has been printed correctly but the country was omitted.. it is scribbled on the side of the envelope... probably a recent addition.

I wonder where on earth this envelope has been before someone worked out which country it had to go to... did it sit somewhere in England being looked at over and over again until some 8 months later someone's bulb lit up and worked out where Muscat is on the map?

ahhhh, things I have to live with without ever knowing!

No, really. Leave me alone!

So I am back..

Things have been hectic but all the sudden I have gone from 15hrs days to total nothingness which has thrown me into complete confusion over a week or so.

I think that this was the turning point: my honemoon phase with laziness has come to an abrupt end. I am ready for a new beginning which hopefully is not too far ahead in time (if only could I tame my impatience).

Don't get me wrong, I'll probably be regretting these words in a few months time when I have to juggle all the little projects that I am planning to throw onto myself but right now I crave stimulating activites that go beyond picking stuff off the shelves in spermarkets, filling the car with petrol, straightening pictures on the walls at home, cleaning the cats' litter, choosing the nail varnish colour or ruminating after the maid.

The problem is that the rest of the world works and I am no coffee morning type (especially because I do like a lie in if there's no good reason to get up) and it is too hot right now to go to the beach during the day. So we're here, me and the cats, in the empty house, most of the time and the conversation is hard to get going. Even my imaginary friend is starting to get bored.

Work kidnapped the husband recently. As I spend a fair amount of time on my own these days I thought it would be a good idea to take advantage of what Muscat has to offer and headed for the local beach near home for a stroll at sunset. Temperatures are just about bearable at that time of the day and there are a few people around. It's a pleasant way to let the thoughts roll and feel at one with nature.

With music pouring into my ears, the colourful sky slowly unvealing its night curtains, the placid mass of water gently following its dance and tickling my feet, I was really enjoying this moment for myself. It is a great antidote to any mood: good music, the sea, the sunset.

Until something gets in the way that is. In my case it came in the form of a white DD (the local male outfit). Like the rabbit in Alice in Wonderland this misterious guy jumped right next to me from out of nowhere. Just I wasn't going to follow him into the rabbit hole rather I must have looked like a giant carrot with legs.

My tactic is usually to ignore them, pretend they ain't there. Normally it works.

I immediately shifted my body to get the shadow out of my sight and to ignore what was coming. Then I heard it, the muffled call to attract my attention.. a barely recognisable human voice under the sound of my music. I pretended not to notice, even when it became louder but the white shadow never gave up and followed me like a ghost, despite my sustained walking pace. I don't know how long I ignored the guy for... at least 10 minutes.

Now this must be cultural because I am sure in Europe anyone else would have been deterred.

I decided to change tactic. I stopped, lifted my face and without hiding my irritation I paused my iPod, turned around and said "what?" - my temper recently earned me and interesting title amongst my course colleagues and the trainer; I can feel it coming all back out in the heat, the many years in London had only put it to sleep. I have been told that I can be pretty scary when I lose it, which ain't that often anyway, but this guy was on a mission to get me annoyed.
Completely unperturbed he asked me the time!!!

Time for you to move on I should have said but I was polite and I read him my watch. Then to my dismay it turns out that what he really wanted to do was conversation to practice English!!
Now, I know I long for a new occupation but somehow I had better plans for the end of this day. I was tempted to recommend him a college.

As I stuff my headphones back into my ears I tell him that English is not my mother tongue, I do not do conversations, I want to listen to my music and in short I want to be left alone... it must have been the lingo because he didn't take a word of that.

No, no worries, I am not turning into a bitch, in my desert-inspired forced meditation hours I've discovered that I've always been one. ;)

He kept on talking over my music... he really was desperate to practice his English.

That's how my beach stroll ended, I went back to my car, forgot about my music, gave up my magic moment and started considering a career as a TEFL (not).

Just an insight on what it can be like here for a girl on her own (let's say that today I was undercover). One thing is for sure, you're not going to be left alone for too long!!

If you go to the public beach have a strategy! It's not dangerous but it could seriously spoil your moment.

Busy bee

You may be thinking that not much is going on over here because of the sporadic posts.

The reality is that we're doing a lot: decadent camping trips up the mountains, social events, busy weekends. In all this there is also work for S., while for me studying for my course and scheming up for the upcoming Birthday party and lots of other small things... I have a lot on my plate lately... and not enough time to upload the latest photos or update the blog.

I'll try to upload the photos of our latest extravagant camping trip to the mountains soon.

Maybe things will return to normal in July (I hope.. for my sanity).

On being an expat

I've been an expat for the last 13 years. First in Europe and now in the Middle East and who knows where else I may end up.

Today I have been pondering on what being an expat means to me and here are a few thoughts.

• I have friends from all corners of the world
• tho my friends come and go all the time
• I don't consider “going back home” a holiday
• I have a very lose concept of what is home
• I think in a different language than my own
• my everyday language is not my native lingo
• flying between continents feels just like jumping on a taxi, distances have become relative
• every day is a new adventure
• the internet is my lifeline (to keep in touch, to feel connected)
  

The emigrant's destiny: The foreign country has not become home, but home has become foreign (Alfred Polger)

Ibra Tombs

We had planned to leave early, ahead of everybody else, just to explore the area a bit and maybe find the best camping spot. Or at least that's what everybody else thought we were doing when on a sleepy weekend morning, stirring in bed, we realised that the plan was more ambitious than we had originally envisaged. We hit the road well beyond schedule and way beyond the rest of the group.

Then there was lunch. For those who know us well this will come with no surprise: we just can't skip lunch. We had to stop for a quick bite in the family section of an anonymous restaurant alongside a petrol station on the motorway. So we were truly on our way around 12.30, perhaps 1pm instead of the planned 9:00 am.

Hooray! We were starting our weekend, heading towards Ibra for a camping trip with a group of friends high up on the mountains on the Eastern Hajars. Did it really matter if we were late?

Not really. Although it almost did.. All of this could have been irrelevant if.. well if.. S. hadn't decided to set off without the exact GPS coordinates or at least appropriate instructions on how to reach the agreed place. We had to make do with some random and vague instructions I had found on the web and scribbled down casually on a piece of paper the day before, just for added info.

At least that set us in the right direction. As instructed, after 16km from the turn off to Wadi Naam we turned right into the Wadi, just before Anniba Plantation. We did, well we did turn right into what looked like a dry Wadi, just before a plantation. I started to suspect that the directions were wrong when instead of getting closer to the mountains it looked like we were driving away from them back towards route 23.

We drove for a while on soft gravel ground. A camel resting under the shade of a tree gave us a curious look. When we ended up back on a paved road not far from the main one we started from, we were sure we were not where we were meant to be. We ended up in a loop back to the plantation. We decided to go back on the gravel road thinking that maybe we missed a turn. We hadn't. We did it a second time and half a third time. We tried to call our friends but by then we knew they had already reached the mountains because none of them had reception. We were lost, late and had no idea where to go and on top of that we had forgotten our good road map at home... we couldn't have been more unprepared.

I couldn't see how taking random off-road tracks would help, nor did I think that S.'s maniac driving could get us anywhere any faster. The 3rd time on the gravel S. almost lost control of the car as it swung from one side to the other. I thought we were going to end upside down, 4x4 have a high centre of gravity which makes them more prone to rolling. Having recently heard a first hand account of a Prado being rolled 180 degrees by an ex-class mate from the Arabic course didn't add any comfort. The image of her and her passengers hanging upside-down held by the seatbelts kept on visualising in my mind. They got out of the vehicle alright but had to wait 45 minutes for rescue. She got away with a few stitches and a bit of a shock while the car, borrowed from a friend, was a total write off.

No, I wasn't interested in that kind of experience so I must have sounded like one of those old ladies who keep on nagging to the driver, my body all stiffened up on the passenger's seat. I am normally quite adventurous but that afternoon I just wasn't enjoying S.'s driving.

Finally we decided to take a different route, on a paved road. We were getting closer to the mountains but we still had no idea where the turn off to start the climb up was. We drove through a road construction site until one of the workers had the good sense of telling us to get off... taken by speed S. missed the diversion sign. Not that they are usually very clear down here.

It was almost 4pm, the light softening in the sky, we had been going in circles around the same area for a while and still had no idea where to go. We had all the meat and charcoal for the rest of the group. It really could have turned out a fiasco of a trip.

Finally the bulb lit up! We called one of the friends who had to pull out at the last minute. The only one who knew where we were going and who luckily had phone reception. With directions and GPS coordinates we were soon outside of GSM reach, climbing up steep and bendy roads, surrounded by beautiful sceneries that unfortunately we couldn't stop to admire.

We reached the top around 5 or 5:30 pm, not long before sunset. After 5 long hours of driving! Some of the others, who still thought we'd left early in the morning had got a bit worried and had gone off on a search for us. They were worried they were going to find us down one of the steep drops along the road...

Luckily it all turned out well. We pitched our tents and we enjoyed the rest of the weekend. The following day we drove to the other side of the mountains down steep tracks towards the sea. 1700 m lower and 10-15c later we were around Tiwi beach soaking in the warm sea.

It was an adventure with a happy ending and it's definitely taught us something. At least to me not to trust a project manager to plan a trip.

Note - The roads to and from Ibra Toms are challenging, with narrow and steep gradients at points. The site can only be reached with a reliable 4x4 and some skilled driving. It's always advisable not to venture out on such trips on a single car. There is no mobile phone coverage from when you start venturing up the mountains until you come back down. Out of interest these are the GPS coordinates/directions we used to get to the top. If you decide to use them, you do so at your own risk. Do your own research before venturing out on an off-road trip. Roads change all the time and conditions can vary dramatically depending on weather.

From Muscat take highway towards Nizwa and turn off onto Route 23. (Ibra exit just past Bid Bid).
At Ibra take left turn at the sign to Wadi Naam.
Follow this road and turn right into dirt track at first GPS point below.
Point 1 – N22.53.437 / E58.53.074 (turn off into Wadi)
Point 2 – N22.50.124 / E58.59.590 (start of the ascent)
- at junction take track to the right
Point 3 – N22.49.239 / E59.00.993 at water tank refilling point turn left up the mountain
Point 4 – N22.48.924 / E59.03.335 (Ibra Tombs)

May activities

Life proceeds smoothly on the hot side of the world. I am now used to the idea that 40c is the norm and I have to say that some days I am secretly disappointed when I realise that despite feeling as comfortable as in a baking oven, it's still spring after all and we haven't reached the extraordinary temperatures that are expected over here..yet.

Humidity has arrived, so the beautiful mountains on the background of Muscat are barely visible now and the blue in the sky has been replaced by a milky haze. I think it will stay like that for a few months.

Anyway despite what you may be thinking, it is not all that bad. Air con is everywhere here so apart from the short and frequent shocks to the system rushing from an air conditioned environment to another, there is little suffering from these extremes. Certainly less than when we have extremely hot summers in Europe where we are less than equipped for it. We still enjoy the social life and try to explore somewhere new when we can.

This is a very diverse country and we are lucky that during the summer months we can still escape to the high mountains not far from Muscat where temperatures, are always at least 10c lower than down here.

Work for S. is going well. He is quite busy and he has long days that normally start at 8am and often don't end until 6pm. I keep on thinking that with the commute that's not far off from a normal working day in London. Anyway, he tells me that he is enjoying his job despite some frustrations and office politics; he has only a 15-minutes commute to and from work, he loves the chilled-out lifestyle outside work and the sun is always shining. So far the pros make the cons insignificant which I guess is a good recipe for sustainable happiness.

In fact life outside work is a very intense and activity-packed business. Yesterday we went to Wadi Sahtan with some friends who are here on holiday from the UK. It is a very big area and we only drove to one of the villages. There was no water in the wadi itself but the drive was extremely scenic, if not a little audacious.

The road climbed from 800m to 1700m in only 4 km. Narrow and steep in places we really put the car to the test. We noticed an interesting smell of brakes when we stopped on the way back. Not sure S. has worked out yet exactly how to use the different settings for 4x4 driving yet. I am sure he will read the manual if anything breaks down ;)

On the way back we also took a diversion onto the rough track along the dry river bed, just to make it more challenging (!?), so now we have a twisted hinge under the car and a damaged exhaust protector after S . drove over a massive boulder when he decided to ignore me pointing and saying “there's a rock there”... Small stuff that adds to the scratch I managed to shape under the front bumper a couple of months ago while parking in town. :D

For what concerns city life we can be seen out and about town at the usual watering holes, always accompanied by a loud crowd. We now have our trusted taxi driver who we call whenever we are on a mission night. At times I wonder whether it would be safer to drink drive than swish home on the motorway at the speed of thunder making a 45km drive across town a swift 15 mins hallucination, but then drink driving may earn you jail and other related trouble so we ride the cab. At least this driver doesn't text or talk on his phone while speeding away and has a plush car with dvd player and all sort of other gadgets that keep us distracted from the road. Definitely a step above the rest!

This past weekend we've also been to a ball at the Grand Hyatt hosted by the Environment Society of Oman. It was great to hear about the projects they are working on. Amongst the guests was Nabs Al Busaidi who is now a celebrity over here but you may have heard of him over BBC news. He's only just come back to Oman from his recent adventurous expedition. He is the first Omani and the first Arab to have walked to North Pole and it was great to be able to meet him, shake his hand and congratulate him personally.

As you know the purpose of these balls is to raise some money for charity so he personally auctioned off a special watch that he used during the expedition for charity. Some of you may have already seen this on the photos on Facebook so bear with me when I write it again for the benefit of those who are not enslaved to the infamous networking site. Apparently this watch was designed by NASA for expeditions to the dark side of the moon. It was the auction item that fetched the highest amount of cash: a whopping 14,000 OR; now that's about £28,000 or if this makes more sense the amount of money you need to buy one of the top of the range 4x4 over here. Now if you are interested I have found that online this limited edition Omega watch retails for £2,975.

A solar panel system for the house sold for about 12000 Omani Rials. The locals show us how it's done.. Good job there are people who can spare lots of money for charity! For everybody else there's Mastercard. ;)

I am still talking of the same weekend when I mention a night at the Intercontinental Hotel to watch a play/comedy by Muscat Amateur Theatre over dinner. It's a group of talented actors who do a very good job at keeping us entertained in town.

Recently we went back to the Al Bustan Palace Intercontinental Hotel auditorium to listen to the Royal Omani Symphony Orchestra. The concert was sponsored by the Spanish Embassy and Qatar Airways (if I remember well). The orchestra, conducted by talented Spanish conductor Jose Gomez, played beautiful Spanish/Moorish themed music and a selection of pieces from the famous Carmen. It was the best performance we've witnessed to so far, possibly encouraged by the fact that some members of the Royal Family were sitting in the royal box.

So as you can see life proceeds smoothly. We keep ourselves busy and entertained. Yet, amongst this mayhem of activities, we are always thinking about all of you back in the world we come from, so don't forget to drop us an email to let us know how you are doing every now and then.

We welcomed with enthusiasm and dropped jaws the recent news from John and the happy message about a stork reaching the far kingdom of OZ; now we wonder about those who are lagging behind.. and I am sure those in question know who we are referring to. ;)

Summer is coming!

Yes while you look forward to the long bright days, a break from the rain (hopefully), some sun and enjoyable temperatures here we start hiding indoors. There's not much to say: it's officially too hot to go to the beach now.

I tried today with a friend who's visiting. We went to the Yacht Club at 9:00 am; not a soul around. We stayed in the shade until the wind became so hot that it felt like having a giant hair dryer blown onto our face. It is a completely new concept for me not getting any relief from the blowing wind.

Bathing in the sea is still nice but you have to watch out for sun burns. We had a small child with us today and hunger struck quite early so at 11:30 we decided to flee to an air conditioned restaurant in town for an early lunch. Now I understand why they have afternoon naps in hot countries..

I went diving yesterday, that is probably one of the few outdoor activities that can be still sustained. It was a nice diversion and a great way to cool down. I love diving, it's so relaxing. The water temperature is around 26c (perfect!). Coming up, the last few meters on the surface feel like a bath tub and I didn't mind the hot wind on the boat in between dives; that's when I normally suffer because it gets too cold.

So diving it is from now on!

On the way to the dive centre early in the morning I passed the thermometer by the Souq (market) in Muttrah: there were 41c at 7:50am!

Shall I say more?

Summer is coming, enjoy yours!

It's hard work but someone's got to do it

Good Monday everyone!
Shame you cannot see the grin on my face... hi hi

The fact that here Monday means the middle of the week is immaterial, I no longer work. As most of you know my stint of remote working from home for a UK company came to an end in January so now I am free, free like the air.

So how do I spend my days? I hear many of you saying. Don't I get bored? Sometimes, but then that can happen at work too so ain't complaining. For now anyway.

Back to “How do I spend my days??” Good questions because I haven't quite had the time to think about it ;until now that is. With the maid that sorts out the house chores, apart from those that I have stubbornly kept mine for some reason, like feeding the cats, cleaning their litter tray and doing the clothes washing (I have resorted to never leave the laundry to a maid again after the one in the last house we lived in managed to turn my favourite yellow t-shirt into a blue-ish green optical aberration!), with the Arabic course finished and level 3 not starting until after July (I passed level 2 with over 80% marks by the way which makes me really proud even if I still can't understand more than a couple of words here and there when I hear the locals talking..), a break from Yoga since my mum was here recently, I really don't have much to do these days.

Take today: I've just come back from lunch at Caffe' Vergnano with my Italian friend, will now spend a couple of hours compulsively surfing the internet, spin a little bit more of my network web, finish my manicure, read the local free paper, watch a bit of trash on the Italian TV this evening (yes we have two satellite dishes now and all the trash that comes with them!!) and then another day will be done.

OK it is not always like this but this week that's it. I've found that it's not easy to find work over here unless you are in some niche field (construction??). The reality is that you don't look for work, it finds you, through networks and luck. I had an interview with an IT company a little while ago (again through a friend) but when I heard what IT pays here my mind wandered elsewhere; it's the downside of living close to the Asian subcontinent; ain't going to get out of bed for that, let alone spend a minimum of 45 hours a week locked in an office with the key thrown away. ;) although I'd probably do it for something else more fun... like diving for instance. :D

Last week an opportunity came up to accompany some Italian people on a business trip around the Chamber of Commerce to help with the lingo (isn't it great that at this day & age there are businessmen that engage into international business without speaking a word of English? It gives work to everybody!). Unfortunately it was all called off just the afternoon before so I didn't get a chance to go. That's the way here, always factor in the unexpected. Shame I was looking forward to that diversion and an opportunity to expand the network.

Opportunities are out there waiting to be found or to find me so I don't worry too much.
I am moving my little octopus tentacles slowly around the Muscat community so that I can feel the water without stirring the bottom too much. In the meantime I will continue to enjoy my freedom while it lasts, having a go (and fun) at playing a Muscat (not too) desperate housewife (with sunglasses).

PS: On another note it's getting very hot here. Hot means:

• I have to turn my car engine + A/C 10 minutes before getting on so that I don't evaporate as I enter the vehicle. Unfortunately because I have a C*@p rent-a-car it still takes another 10 minutes before the air is cold enough, so I loose two litres of water for the first 10 minutes while I drive off because I can't be asked to wait any longer.
  
• You get 3rd degree burns from the steering wheel of your parked car
  
• You go to the beach and stay in the shade (and soon that won't be bearable either)
  
• You sweat faster than you can drink
  
• You have to have your last dinner at open air restaurants before they all close for the summer by mid May.
  
• The washing on the line is dry by the time you've finish hanging the last item... (almost)
  
• No cold water from the taps but you can choose between hot (blue tap) and very hot (red tap)

Green Turtles

The magic unfolds during the dark hours of the night. Visits times at Ras Al Jinz are 9pm for an evening tour or 4am, just before sunrise. We did them both, you cannot take chances with nature. When it comes to wild animals as always, a sighting is never guaranteed. Apart from the tiredness that resulted from this it was was all well worth it.

At 9pm we turned up at the visitors centre, got out tickets and waited patiently for our group's turn. You cannot use your own torches on the beach to avoid disturbing the nesting turtles or confusing hatching little ones that follow the light of the horizon to find the sea. With no moon on sight we stumbled towards the beach following the beam coming from our guide's torch.

Turtles turn up on the beach between sunset and sunrise to lay their eggs. They engage into an exausting feat lasting two hours during which they dig a meter deep hole to cover it again once the eggs are laid and then leaving another disguising hole a few meters away (to confuse the numerous predators that turn up with in the hope of finding a nutritious banquet).

It is a privilege to witness such magnificent creatures lay their eggs or the small hatchlings frantically moving about on the sand instinctively following the call of the sea. One cannot stop wondering at the amazing ways nature manages its caulderon of life.

It is an amazing story of survival, our guide gives an informative talk. Apparently from 1000 eggs only a handful turtles survive to reach adulthood; seagulls, crabs, foxes, fish, man (fishermen nets, boats and other stress), pollution (especially plastic bags in the sea) everything conspires against these magnificent animals that only start laying eggs at around 30-40 yrs of age and live to approximately 80 yrs of age.

Their name (green), the guide explains, is due to the colour of their fat caused by their mostly vegetarian diet. The eggs hatch after about 2 months and although they are laid at the same time (about 100-200 eggs per nest) it will take about 3 to 5 days for all the turtles to leave the nest as they leave in small groups.

They only come out in the darkness of the night. The guide explains that as they dig their way up they will only surface the last few inches if the sand is cool. Warm sand indicating that the sun is still shining.

The most amazing piece of information however must be that the sex of the turtles is determined by the temperature of the sand during the incubation period: if the sand temperature is under 29c the eggs will produce all male turtles, if the sand is over 29c only femails will be born; however if the temperature is 29c then the sex of the turtles from that nest will be mixed. That is why the nests closer to the water will tend to produce male turtles and the ones further away will most likely produce females.

Once the little turtles reach the sea they will have the energy to swim without stopping for 3 days. They will swim to safer places into the deep sea. They will wander the seas travelling for thousands of miles (tagged turtles from Oman have apparently reached Australia) to come back to the very same beach they were born on to lay their eggs every 3 years once they reach their mature mating age.

We finished our night tour at about 11pm. At 11:30 pm we were back at our hotel along the beach in Ras Al Hadd only to get out of bed again at 3:30 am for another visit to Ras Al Jinz.

The dawn viewing was very different. Firstly we had a bit more light with the moon up and the sun not far under the horizon and then we were allowed to stay on the beach at the end of the viewing, watching sun rise on this beautiful stretch of coast. The best bit however was probably seeing one last small turtle that having lost completely its way (probably from the night before) and incredibly surviving against all the odds a long way from the sea, it was saved by a spanish couple who was there with us. They placed it delicately on the beach near the shore and we watched it using its last energy to frantically reach the sea and swim away.

We'll never know if it made it but it was such an amazing spectacle to see it clearly under the light of the sun rising.

We spent the rest of the day swimming and hiking in Wadi Shab. Needless to say we were exausted by the end of the day and we were in bed by 9pm. It was all worth it!

Sand and sea

Just a quick note to say that the rain went a while ago and left room to the usual beautiful blue sky.

Of course we've been busy taking my mum up and down the country and having lots of fun; that's why I haven't had time again to update the blog.

Some photos on flickr.

Back to the rain!

A quick post to let you know that we are back.


My mum is here visiting and I have little time to spend on the Internet. I am taking advantage of the fact that she's crashed in bed, probably too tired after we were woken up by the heavy rain and thunderstorm this morning just before 6am.

Yes, rain. While skiing I smiled at the idea that now, going back home after a holiday means back to the sun, the sea and a relaxed lifestyle. Yet after 12 years in London the tradition could not be broken.

After just a few days we were back we were faced with a severe weather warning which also resulted in the government giving a two days holiday to the public sector. Can you imagine the British Government announcing a holiday because it's sunny?

Of curse those who benefited from this last minute holiday (that with the weekend meant a 4-day break) were more than happy to stay at home, others panicked and started rumors about a new cyclone...many rushed to the supermarkets and emptied the shelves in a food and water purchase frenzy.

For us it is just the usual worry of the leaking windows at home although this time I have stuck duct tape all over the place and although unsightly it seems to help a lot.

Yes for an entire week now it has been almost constantly cloudy and it has been raining heavily intermittently. On the day that I took my mum to the Souq there was a horde of Italian tourists just disembarked from a cruise ship on their guided tour of the city, I could hear one on the phone talking to someone at the other end complaining about the rain.."good job it never rains here" she was saying "we got soaked yesterday and so did our bags, we are exhausted".

Then I met a friend of a friend at the supermarket in the evening, he has a visitor staying with him for just a week. I cannot imagine anyone more unlucky, coming to Oman to get some sun and enjoy the sights and all he gets is rain and roads that flood due to the lack of drainage! It's been the worst week of the year so far!

We almost cancelled our trip to the desert this weekend but in the end we decided to go anyway so now we've seen the desert under the clouds and the damage caused by the rain at some of the wadis we decided to visit. A reminder of the fierce force of water and a good way to learn what the danger of flash floods in wadis during rain fall really means.




It seems that there is some more forecast for heavy rain today (although it was sunny today it may rain again tonight) and some drizzle tomorrow but hopefully (at least for my mum's sake) the weather should be back to normal after tomorrow.. (can't wait to go back to the beach and we need dry weather to camp on the beach this weekend!!).




If you ask me I've already had enough of this unexpected diversion but if you go by the local standards apparently this is "good" weather.....








<< Cloudy desert

The house

I know a few of you are curious to see where and how we live so I have uploaded a few photos of the place we call home on Flickr.

The following link will provide you with a visual tour of the property.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/liquidworld/sets/72157614834648183/show/

I have decided to keep these visible to friends and family only so you will need a pass or a flickr account to view these.

If you have a flickr account and you are marked as Friends or Family in my contacts then you will be able to see these from the above link. If you have an account and you cannot see them send me an email and I will add you to my contacts.

If you do not have an account and don't want to create one but you are still interested in seeing the pictures no worries, just send me an email and I will forward a special pass.

Portaloos

Since the last post we've been paintballing (auch!), to James Blunt concert (and before you do: no need to comment on the choice, there is no choice here), to an environmental walk along the beach front followed by pork-based breakfast with a lovely view over the sun-studded sea at the Crowne Plaza.

The concert was on the grounds of the Intercontinental Hotel. This was a big event in town so we kept on bumping onto people we know, as it happens whenever you go out in Muscat.

This may sound a bit funny but I found myself intrigued by the temporary toilet facilities on site..
Ok have I run out of things to say? No. I always tell you about wonderful places and beautiful beaches I thought that maybe it is starting to get a bit boring for you. So I'll throw some other curiosity in.

The thing is that having eperienced the portaloos at summer music festivals in England I couldn't help to notice the differences with a grin on my face. I know it's a bit sad but it made me smile and if a toilet does that then it warrants some space on the blog.

First of all there were male and female portaloo sections: I don't remember well as it's been a while since I roughed it at a music festival in the UK but I don't think they do this in England (or do they nowdays??). Then there was a toilet attendant sitting outside the row of portaloos to make sure that the cubicles were sparyed with air freshener on a regular basis and toilet paper refilled (!?). Once you got in the toilets they were dry, as clean as you can expect a portaloo to be and also had a packet of dettol wet wipes to disinfect your hands after you had finished your business.
Ah and of course stepping out there was no mud.

I thought it was hilarious. I wanted to take a photo of the male/female set up but I thought I'd look like a bit of a weirdo photographing toilets. I have already been labelled a compulsive photographer. I think it's bad enough that I am putting this on the blog but I am sure that anyone else who has endured the rough reality of portaloos at an open air festival in the UK would have found this just as amusing ;) - maybe this is a sign that I may be turning into an uncanny expat or I am running out of things to blog on ;)

On another note, I know that a few of you have requested to see photos of the house. It is true that I am no longer working and should have no excuses but planning for the future and doing nothing seems to take much more time ;)

I'll get it sorted soon. :)

Theatre, diving, comedy? Life's a beach

This weekend gone has been a frenzy of activities. The weather is perfect and as the temperatures hike steadily we may as well make the most of it before it is too hot to even step outside and everything slows down.

We started with a classical concert on Wednesday night at the auditorium of the Al Bustan, a colossal luxury hotel where I always end up getting lost looking for the right lift or the toilets! The Royal Omani Symphony Orchestra (AKA ROSO) composed of young Omanis and directed by a British conductor was good. We enjoyed the cultural evening: the single priced tickets at 10 Rials each (about 18 GBP nowadays) get you the best seat you can manage to find in the house (first come first served) and as usual canapés and drinks during the interval!

This was the second time we were in that auditorium since we moved to Oman a few months ago and I have to say that the experience is always interesting. If in London you need to check your friends' diaries months ahead to make sure you find an evening that everybody can make, here even without meaning to, you know you will surely meet someone you know or spot a known face amongst the “contained” crowd.

The most amusing part however is people watching. Of course everybody is watching! As you mingle around at the interval scouring the crowd for known faces you can spot the seasoned expats from afar. There will always be one or two who having completely lost the sense of measure or the will to fit in, stand out like a sore thumb in their extravagant outfits (which by the way will help you recognise them again at the next social do); you may also have a little scuffle with the grumpy misfits who have obviously spent too long in the country and have been worn down by frustration, yet they never go back to the beautiful perfect lala land their country is because they know that by going back they would break the spell (even if they refuse to accept it).

At first sight you would say that the multicultural backgrounds mesh together and yet differences are so obvious to your eyes. Even my very own background it seems, is slowly screaming itself back out (little episodes like queueing or driving in this country have unleashed my survival instinct). I am finding it all very interesting.

Enough of the Muscat expatriate society! I could write a whole post on this but I want to tell you about our weekend. I guess that if I don't write so frequently my long blurbs are excused (she thinks).

After the ROSO concert of course we could not shun some drinks with friends at the beautiful bar by the beach so we were in bed by 2am and up again at 6:30 for our next appointment in the calendar. Life is hard!

My first dive in Oman was around the Daymaniyat Islands. Beautiful pearls encrusted in the Arabian sea about 45 minutes boat ride from the Global Scuba dive centre.
We had two dives, both very nice (although I was totally annoyed that the people on the other boat encountered a leopard shark and we didn't!). We saw huge morays, coral in beautiful condition, tuna and a few sea snakes on the sea surface as we were riding back. In between the two dives we stopped for lunch on one of the islands.

The photos speak for themselves, this place is paradise!

I was the first to get off the boat (those who were with me on the expedition in Madagascar are probably very familiar with this drill of mine ;-). As I waded towards the beach schools of glass fish started jumping around in a frenzy. I stuck my hand out. It must be true what they say about fish being stupid because they kept on hitting head first into my hand! Now I understand what an easy feat it must be for big fish to feed along the sardine run in South Africa.
We were back home around 3pm and crashed full weight on the bed.

Since having a late night and an early following morning wasn't enough in the evening we were booked for a comedy do. Smartly dressed and trying to look sleek we headed to the “Intercon” at 7pm to join our friends at the table for an evening of laughter over meal and a few drinks. It was a blast, we had lots of fun and of course another late night! I also managed to get a photo with Bobby Davro (if you know who he is).

By the end of the evening it is only half way through the weekend so on Friday morning we pack our car, pick up our friend and join the others who had been camping the night on Assifah beach. We spend another glorious day on the beach under the warm sun, swimming in the blue sea. We also “played” a bit of chase the goat when the uninvited guests turned up lured by the smell of lunch. A classic on this side of the world.

Before moving to Muscat I thought that we would have to give up a lot of things living out here (like classical concerts, comedy dos and stuff like that) but now it feels we are doing more with our time than we did back in London. Maybe because it is less of an effort or maybe because we make more of an effort (seen that the opportunities are limited)... either way we could have not crammed more into our humble weekend!

And this week we are even going paint balling! (FYI it's only just got to Oman).

Maybe you can guess what the next post is going to be about...