United Arab Emirates – Page 2 – Brave New World of Blogging

So what’s next?

Wondering what the next adventure would be, I put myself into the care of dear dear friends (whose value to me is far greater than the riches that created the land they now call home) and waited to see where that led.

Citadels, landscapes, buildings, roads, birds, people beyond expectation and that was only day one 🙂

Early today we breakfasted, loaded our picnic, passports, bathers (swimming costumes). smiles, sense of adventure and headed to Oman – Sohar to be exact.

An hour’s easy drive from Al Ain. A very defined custom’s border post; no photography, stand in line, and the excitement of a stamp in my passport, Oman 🙂 (No EU freedom of movement here.) And finally now Sultans rule, not Sheikhs (I learn something new every hour here) and immediately the landscape has changed.

Mountains, now. More rugged, more austere, more “rubbish”as my father and his mountaineer friends used to refer to this kind of rock ; not the sort of stone that draws climbers into its orbit, but rather hastens them in the opposite direction.

Life here must have been unbearably tough, and in many areas, I am sure still. Reading, as I am, Rags to Riches, the story of Dubai/Abi Dubai one can only marvel at the speed with which this change has occurred.

img_8923-1 — mosques (different shapes from Al Ain

these mountains are beautiful in an austere way

A special stop at Sohar for a picnic tea and biscuits, lovingly offered by Mick,; saw a middle aged man beautifully clad in white quietly ‘join’ us.

He sat on a bench right behind us, close enough in an empty vastness to be ‘part of our space’ and since there was a vast area with seating to chose from, I am guessing his solitude was beginning to weary him.

And he sat,

silently,

hands on knees,

looking ahead and studiously avoiding any visual contact with us.

It was a Saturday, a holy day and the streets were still deserted.

We spoke no arabic.

He spoke no English

He declined our offer of tea.

He declined our offer of biscuits.

As we packed up to leave,

we offered him some fruit,

he took an apple and banana

We left as he sat,

alone in the picnic ground,

beautifully clad in white on a holy day.

The Sport of Kings

So in a country where kings have their way, falconry ( like horse breeding) can be indulged whatever the cost.

Did I mention that camel racing is making a come back with 4 wheel drive vehicles easily accessible as a winning prize in local races.

Did I mention that Annie teaching English to young policemen one day enquires why one young man was late for class. His response was the waving of car keys at her – he had been racing falcons at dawn and won a car.

This became the topic then for the English lesson and phones came out showing her various falcons and camels when she suddenly did a double take – is that a lion? Sure enough, that photo wasn’t a bird or camel but lion cub!!! A pet. Next a cheetah and I forget the third animal (bear?)

But the falcons, I hear you cry.

Yes there was one, one bird and four people standing around it asking questions of the handler. I could not believe my ears, the handler was South African as were the three strangers collected around her!!!!! Strange world.

There is a Huge falcon research centre on Al Ain and this young lady had always had a passion for birds. She studied animal husbandry at Potch University and finally found herself working here – a dream job – a dream come true 😃. She’s off shortly to Scotland to look for breeding birds.

This bird was a female, a little stressed at times as she overheated and was sprayed with water, bigger than the male as she needs to incubate eggs and he needs agility to hunt for two.

She has an enormous crop and I was invited to ‘poke my finger in her chest and feel’

Goodness me, I thought my finger would come out her back!!!! The strangest sensation but of course makes perfect sense for storage of you think about the size of the prey relative to her size.

I was proudly advised that a ladies only falconry club was starting. A two week course in November – Free and falcons provided. I can see another adventure looming

Flying 😩

Flying today is not as I have said previously for the faint hearted but demands a strong constitution and sense of humour

My travel companion this time is an elderly gentleman, not spilling over into my seat physically as has been the case in the past, but nonetheless he spills over.

The first large loud and distinctly pungent burb exploded (there is no other word to describe it) with such force several heads turned our way.

I maintained a stoic dignity looking ahead, a little unsure of the appropriate response. He is elderly, there are cultures where that is a sign of courtesy and acknowledgment of a good meal – we had been given a tiny packet of saw dust tasting nibbles – perhaps that was it?

His voice is loud and demanding and the slight Serbian air hostess is politely taking offence at his tone. She and I make eye contact and understand one another. Another Loud sound emerges with a huge sense of satisfaction and I inhale tomato juice I didn’t order 😂😂😂 and continue to look ahead – “I heard nothing”

A sneeze follows, we all jump and the sounds that follow shall not be described 😳
Special meals are now the norm and it is a circus as everyone around me seems to have swapped their seats and my Serbian air hostess is wandering around with huge baskets of specials trying to find the owner of a seat number; vegetarian Hindi, vegetarian; ( there can be a difference?) Gluten free, you ordered low calorie? Oh, nut free? Lactose free? No I don’t have an order for sugar free; boneless fish?

And finally the normal meal trolley arrives – by which time most people have had their specials so I feel special as she aims directly for me – almost the only one left to feed 😂😂😂

One thing I know, whichever meal anyone gets, they will all fit the bill of taste free.
And my travelling companion now slurps with great delight, (oh that I could share the sound with you 😜😂)another tomato juice – no ice, salt yes, no pepper! No good

Perhaps the burbs are not after all a sign of contentment

We are both after all on a long distance flight!
I too may start to burb if any more tomato juice, with or without salt and pepper is served 😳
Flying requires a sense of humour, strong constitution, short legs (score there 😜) and a very good book (score there too)
And we are still not there yet

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