Safety & Cycling

As Qatar send troops into Syria I gaily wander through the days here feeling as though I am in a huge bubble of bubble wrap, safe and sound. Occasionally I pinch myself really hard and remember I am in the middle of the Middle East living on a gas field. We are a protected peninsula, our neighbours troubled by their constant conflict. The Emergency Evacuation notice on the front door of our building instructs us to go to the security gate of the compound upon hearing the siren (which we did during a siren test in the holidays). Thinking of health and safety what noxious gases do I inhale whilst cycling around like Miss Hubbard in Greendale, whizzing past Postman Pat? As I slice through an invisible sulphur screen smelling of rotting eggs, it gags in my throat. I pass miles of bending white pipes carrying their precious product, blood pumps through my veins while I pedal. Let's have a race, blood versus gas.
I won't get to see the London Olympics live this year but every day I see the eternal flames of the gas burners, making the days even warmer and the nights brighter. Like gigantic candles on this dry and barren crumbled cake of a desert dessert. Note to new year dieters, stressed spelled backwards = desserts.
Only one steep hill to challenge me here, up to the jebel where the flag flies or lies depending on the wind. It is our landmark here as Emley Moor Mast is there. When the wind blows it does remind me of home, cycling my roller coaster hills, exhilarating and beautiful. In my mind I smell grass and manure, drink rain and hail, splatter through muddy puddles. Push pant, push pant, the labour of hard exercise. Breathing deeper to pass the whirring windmills, wave to the farmer, baa to the sheep, sing to myself on top of the world.
You could say I wear my heart on my sleeve but when I went for a recent interview I also wore it around my wrist in the form of a delicate silver bracelet. The tiny diamond in the heart sparkling confidence, a lovely gift from a dear friend. Who could not be dazzled by such a charm?  I proudly claim "the job is mine" as if I were Gollum from The Lord of the Rings. After a ten year career break I will be rewarded in Qatari Riyals for my services to the community here as a Teaching Assistant. I will endeavour to keep blogging but unfortunately will have to put the golf lessons on the back burner for a while!

Now That's What I Call a different Christmas 1

My first post of the new year and as I write the thick morning fog is disappearing as surely as the steam does from the bathroom mirror after a hot shower.  My eyes acclimatise to reveal a female version of Tom Hanks' character in the film Castaway. I suddenly realise I haven't had my hair cut in six months, my sun bleached eyebrows would provide excellent bedding for the nest of a small bird and I could have won the 'grow a moustache for charity event' open to the male staff way back last term.
I kicked off the new year by visiting the gym when the rest of the family went back to school. To my horror I had to be weighed and measured again as when I first enrolled. Each body part was tape measured and noted and each body part had got BIGGER. I dismissed the sincere concern of my lovely instructor with a giddy laugh and 'of course it's muscle' reply. I didn't even eat any Christmas pudding. Is it just paranoia or am I really Bridget Jones?

          Christmas

• We may no longer be members of the excellent Holmfirth Harriers but are now Qatar West Coast Hash House Harriers. The Hash is basically a kind of trail you follow in the desert, followed by drinks and sometimes food.  Hashmas was great fun with people dressing up in Santa hats and the like. We ran or walked the course, then round a blazing bonfire sang Christmas carols and songs to the accompaniment of guitars, trumpets, kazoos and a ukulele. There was lots of festive food to devour including mince pies. The bus load of Cubans who appeared certainly brought a party spirit to the scene. On another Hash we enjoyed a spit roast lamb in a spot called Ship's Canyon and in the same area yet another day, spied a small luminous green scorpion with it's black sting visible.

• Christmas Eve saw us carol singing en mass around the town. It was very festive and we stopped off at three houses for drinks, food and singing before finishing up at the Golf Club. An open truck with the band on it led the way. A great ex-pat effort was made to celebrate Christmas Eve, which surprised me but filled me with joy. There were approximately 50-60 adults and children of all ages and the singing was rousing and cheerful.

• Santa did steer his reindeer to a safe landing and after the presents were opened and enjoyed we set off to enjoy the warm sun on the beach. I challenged my father-in-law to a sea swim. I wore my swimming cossi and leggings (were they to provide me with psychological warmth or to cover the vein?) and Jimmy his rainbow speedos. It was freezing but great to swim on Christmas Day in the Arabian Gulf. We warmed up by eating chip butties and  playing beach cricket. The buffet tea was easily accessible to all on our lovely second hand table, with lazy Susan spinning around her delights at the touch of a finger. I may one day allow my husband to spin lazy Susie around on the lazy Susan and see what happens.

• Boxing Day for the Hoyles is usually spent at a friendly Lancashire cricket club, the men playing a match in all weathers women and children chatting and showing off gifts, eating more mince pies and drinking mulled wine. This year I managed to take the whole family to the Christingle service at church which was familiar to me and comforting. Not to mention the whole reason for the season. I'm not sure the rest of the family were as thrilled as I was. Afterwards we joined in a game of Texas Scramble on the golf course. It was great fun followed by lovely food, a great quiz and a white elephant raffle. Altogether a very different but very enjoyable Christmas free from commercialism but with full measures of peace and joy. Of course as author and editor I am choosing to exclude any mention of family fall outs and tensions. Could that be the start of the blog sequel, Susie's Arabian Nightmare.

We did go out to see the dolphins again over the holidays and spotted only a couple but they gave us a 'never before seen' spectacular show of frolics and leaps, twists and turns and very smiley faces. We laughed as the kids named them Splashy and Jeffrey.
Nigel got a great photo of one dolphin fully out of the water. It was only when he put the picture on the computer and we enlarged it that we could really see Jeffrey in all his glory. We will look out for some baby dolphins swimming in the sea soon.

For photos of our adventures find Nigel Hoyle on facebook and he may let you be his friend!