First Rain Poem

First Rain

Pitter patter footsteps,
running in my room.
Pitter patter on block paving,
my beloved came.

Almost three months have passed
since I saw you last.
I instantly feel at home.

We cry quietly together, our tears falling down.
You gently caress my hands and face,
feeling new and exciting
like the first time.

We connect.

I smell your damp freshness.
Inhaling deeply this intoxicating scent,
heaven sent.
Not forgotten, yet longed for.

We sit awhile, more relaxed now,
I'm momentarily mesmerised.

Too soon you quench my thirst and leave
me wanting more.
Juliet like I wait by my window,
for your return.

I know you will.



Suzanne Hoyle 2011

First rain

So the rainy day did come and with it a poem. It also meant that I could begin reading Gig by Simon Armitage (signed copy remember?) I have nearly finished it because it's BRILLIANT of course. He can write no wrong in my book. I did send him a poem earlier this year ( For Simon Armitage - this is not a love poem) after I went to hear him read at Huddersfield University, where I got the book signed. I wonder if he read it?
Prior to watching England v Spain a single tear ran down my cheek as I listened to the National Anthem. Then a minute of silence held for Remembrance Sunday, which I honoured. Despite missing the homeland and in spite of my faith I am not missing the barrage of Christmas hype on TV and in the shops, it doesn't exist here.
But my faith remains, as does my hope and love.

Half Term Adventures part 2

Dolphins

Another boat trip this time out to the dolphin reef.
As a group disembarks the boat we are to climb aboard I enquire whether they have seen the dolphins, "not today," they reply. We set off with three friendly families we have met here. It's always exciting for me leaving the dry land and venturing off into water. I have great memories of my time as a volunteer onboard 'Cockney Spirit' a 40 foot, two mast ketch used to take young, disadvantaged people on sailing holidays. It was a Christian project working as a Charitable Trust and made my love for the sea and sailing as concrete as the hull the boat was made from. I had a fantastic nine months with the charity in 1994.
We power about two miles out to sea, then sleek, grey black fins appear in the near distance. One, then two, then three and four. Much excitement from us adults and the children alike. We chase after them and they frolic and arch, creating bubbles and froth near the boat. Up and then down almost copying the boat as it bobs on the surface. They swim so close, so fast, enjoying the engine as it churns up a wake. Our driver knows exactly what they like and when he has enticed them he cuts the engine off so it's silent apart from our shrieks of delight as they play hide and seek with us, now you see us, now you don't. Smiling and happy are the dolphins, as are we. Under water they illuminate and become silvery green. It's so magical and beautiful I don't want it to end. When you look carefully you see the jagged edges on their fins, small scrapes and scars on their bodies. Just like us they are imperfect, yet still very special and unique. The next thing I know we share the same sea and swim in their space. This time I dived into the deeper, darker water, not as nervous now. They don't come near and even though I know they are only dolphins three things immediately come to mind:
1. Dead Calm-film
2.'Dead in the water,' song by David Gray
3. Jaws-film


I think I stay alive in the water for 10 minutes, before climbing back onboard.


All too soon we return to shore, all of us so happy having seen these lovely creatures enjoying their natural habitat, between Qatar and Saudi Arabia. I can't help but feel blessed because we have been out three times on this boat and every time we have seen the dolphins. Some people have been here four years and still not seen them.


Souq wakif

The number 1 thing to do in Doha according to the Lonely Planet Guide. Does this mean I can come home now? Of course not. Not until I have had a ride on a grumpy, spitting, hump backed camel and got the photo to prove it!
The Souq was once a weekend trading area for the Bedouin, I discover from the Marhaba, Qatar's premier information guide book 2011. It certainly is an amazing place to visit and I already want to go back at night when it is all light up and more hustling and bustling. We arrive in need of toilets, I always need the toilet even after a relatively smooth car journey. I ended up in the male public conveniences for some reason and at least two other men came in while I was relieving myself. I flushed and peeked through the door, Nigel told me to wait. Gulp. I tried again to escape, again he ushered me back. Yikes, I was starting to panic! A day stuck in the toilets would not be very pleasant or my number 1 thing to do in Doha. Third time lucky, I held my breath and waltzed out doubly relieved.
We found ourselves in the animal section which was a most bizarre and disturbing experience given that the day before we had seen the dolphins swimming freely. All the animals were in small cages apart from some out on display stands. There were brightly plumed macaws, orange and yellow canaries, rabbits upon rabbits, puppies, quail, terrapins, toads, mice and wait for it, fluffy dyed pink, yellow, orange and green chicks up to 30 or so in cages! This seemed doubly unfair especially as there were plenty of pigeons flying free above, perching on the wooden beams and ledges of their choice. They were lucky to be born free I suppose.
As we walked through the labyrinths of narrow passages, each turn brought new sights and smells, bright coloured cloth, incense and spices, pots, pans, pictures, sunglasses, hats, pashminas.
There were older men with identity tags on carting wheel barrows full of purchases. We didn't employ one but I wanted to scoop up one tired, frail man put him in the wheel barrow and give him a rest and ride, like my dad did to me when I was a child. 
There was a very cosmopolitan feel to the restaurant area, and there were many Qatari men in full white robes with red and white checked tea towels on their heads. How do they stay so immaculate all day long? With our varying shades of gingerness and freckled faces we stand out like pigs in blankets in a pork free society. But we are accepted and respected here.
We sit outside a Lebanese restaurant. I order coffee, Nigel has tea. Joshua has fresh orange and Eleanor has hot chocolate in the daytime heat of 30 degrees or so? The tea comes in a handle-less glass and is black. When we ask for milk we get a quirky look from the waiter and I explain with open arms and a shrug that we are in fact English. He returns with a white, porcelain gravy boat, full of hot milk as if to make a drama out of a near crisis.
We also decide to try a Shisha pipe as everyone else seemed to be doing it and when in Rome and all that. The gravy boat milkman suggests the grape and mint flavour of nicotine free tobacco is very good. Nigel seems to take to the pipe very well! I feel like Sandra Dee from Grease coughing and choking after one inhalation of the pipe. Young and old men and women all seem to enjoy puffing away on these snake charm like pipes. I'll just stick to drinking in the atmosphere and coffee, thanks.

I'm posting this on the significant last day of my 30's!

Half Term Adventures

Ok, long time no blog because I have been very busy on my Arabian adventures! Choose carefully whether or not to continue reading. I don't want to make you hate me. I'm sure 'This Morning' is featuring some interesting ways to cook a turkey again or perhaps you are busy with your Christmas shopping or even working?

Wow Dhow Day
The first adventure was on a dhow trip in Doha (a dhow is a traditional wooden boat).
We got on board our vessel and set off for a sand bank through aquamarine waters with the impressive Doha City skyline to our port side. I almost wistfully watched the planes leaving Qatar on our starboard side, but then pinched myself to enter into this adventure. There were plenty of families aboard so we were all happy. We had travelled together from Dukhan on a coach as someone had organised it for us. We reached the sand bank after about 30 minutes or so and anchored within swimming distance of the sandy bank. Everyone stripped down to reveal bronzed, toned bodies in bikinis, multi-coloured swim suits and sarongs, sporty racer back swim suits, long flowery swim shorts, varicose veins plus bruise on my right upper arm (a nice distraction from the leg, but not entirely desirable considering youngest child had bitten me in a temper a few days ago!) After a bit of Arab courage some of the men and kids started jumping into the sea from the boat. It had two levels, so in effect two heights of diving platform. I desperately wanted to swim, but I also wanted to dive in to challenge myself. I dive very rarely but thought I would regret not doing so. I can do it, no I can't, yes I can, stood on ledge now, no I can't, back on deck, yes I can, back on ledge, lots of encouragement from the rest of the water babies and my family. Eventually with a deep breath I took the plunge, dived off the wooden ledge (lower level) into the cool, turquoise sea below. I did it! This is what being on the brink of 40 does to you!
From the sea the boat looks like a wooden titanic looming up in front of me,with the amazing city as  the backdrop, then the huge blue sky as the canvas, a surreal 4D experience. In the boat non swimmers sat and chattered under the sun canopy whilst barnacles below the water line clung on tight and kids and other grown ups shrieked with delight. Some swan to the sand bank and back. I could see the reflection of the pale sand, other dhows and brilliant sea in the windows of the cabin.The vertical, rusty runged ladder made a scary retreat back on board for the bar-b-q!! Meat, chicken, rice, salad, bread and fruit. As a pendulum swings we swung around our anchor, feeling dizzy, drunk on the high life or were we slightly dehydrated with the onset of sunstroke? Coming back down to earth and into the dock, we passed what I thought was a fishing vessel. A fellow adventurer pointed out it had sheep on board probably going to be slaughtered for the forthcoming Eid celebrations.

Just desert and a film set
Of course following a convoy of four wheel drivers into the desert for a bar-b-q (lots of them here) and to see a film set would be just up our sand dune. However, not so much fun in our still hired, Nissan Sunny. We set off being assured that the terrain was suitable for our method of transport (remember the journey to the aquapark). I really think camels would have been a much more sane choice.
Only 15 minutes or so into the journey, second in the convoy and wanting to stay close to the leader, we mounted a kerb and actually got stuck. We all got out and 'the men' lifted the car up and pushed it back onto the lunar terrain! I hasten to add the husband was driving. Back on some semi-smooth tarmac we ventured along until the road stopped and the desert started. We traversed cautiously witnessing a graveyard of tyres, rubbish and not so fortunate car parts enhancing the feeling of adventure/terror. Stopping at a sign saying Bourq Nature Reserve, boasting gazelles and ostrich, some of the group took photos. We learned later that on every trip taken through here, they have yet to see a single gazelle or ostrich. Along the bumpy desert we went. I was clinging onto my pyrex casserole dish with homemade coleslaw in it for dear life! Broken glass mixed in with the cabbage and carrots would be awfully dangerous and possibly lethal in large quantities. The ground became a bed of rocks and ridges , like driving over a bed of nails but with little faith in succeeding. Then we came to wet sand from the rain the previous day, (look out for a poem coming to your screen soon)
which made us skid and swerve as if we were in snowy Station Road, Shepley. The Sunny was just about coping but its passengers were not, "This is insane," "What are we doing?" "I'm scared!" "How is a tow truck going to find us out here?" we chorused in our quartet. Caked in sand and sludge we were shaken to our very core, jolted and jiggled, bewildered and confused. Finally we arrived at Smugglers or was it Robbers Den? We were in what felt like a giant crater and we were to have a bar-b-q on the equivalent of the moon. We should have borrowed a golf buggy to get here. Around the perimeter of the crater were manmade, stone shelters, seemingly used for litter dumping and public toilets. Apparently this crater space was used as part of the film set we were to visit on the return journey! No-one seems to know what film or films were made here. Extra research required. The food was great and calmed our nerves. Kids were scrambling up the steep, white, sandy rocks behind the shelters and making dens in the ones not too full of crap (litter and literally). It has to be said that the coleslaw was well and truly mixed together.
In some ways it was hard to relax knowing the hellish return journey was our only way out of there. After a couple of hours in the crater with the sun beating down we deceided to visit the rest of the film set. Back in the cars for a short, easier, 10 minute journey to what looked like a small, village in the middle of nowhere. There were palm trees planted within its walls and we could wander in through wooden doors to empty rooms, up spiral and straight stairs to balconies. It was very strange but gave us some great photo opportunites. Susie, Nigel, Eleanor and Joshua of Arabia paparrazzied in their desert set on their Arabian adventure. Back into cars, gulp here we go, pedal to the metal. In truth the return journey was scary but not as harrowing as we were steered on a different, slightly less coarse, course. The main cause for concern being that if you hadn't plucked up courage to use the crater toilet, your bladder was beginning to feel like a water bomb about to expode whilst being constantly rolled over and over sharp pebbles and stones. This feeling continued for 30-40 minutes. Who said life was boring? Much later on, safely still and not jiggling, with a burst water bomb and the desecrated remains of the coleslaw back in the fridge, I found a rhyming couplet Eleanor had added to my scribblings,
"not suitable for our Nissan Sunny
but we can't afford a four wheel drive yet, cos they're a lot of money"