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"
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"
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