Fujairah Trip via Massafi

G'day

Last weekend I had to work at Dibba on the east coast of the UAE. a couple of hours drive from Al Ain. I was supervising national English examinations. The firm paid for Chris and me to stay in the Sandy Beach Hotel overnight.

While I worked my butt off supervising exams in a Dibba Al Hasn gymnasium, Christina lazed about the hotel swimming, reading and generally living the life of Riley. (Who the hell was Riley anyway? He must have had a good life as everyone keeps talking about it.).

We finished our exam supervision rather late ... about 6:15 pm after which Chris collected me and we travelled home via Massafi which has two rows of shops, one called the Thursday market and the other a few kilometres away, the Friday Market. Needless to say, in this silly place, both are open every day.

At Massafi we visited a pottery run by a sole Indian man who pumps out earthenware pots like the Australian cricket team pumps out runs. The photo above is of Chris looking for pots to buy. We bought three, two small ones and a larger one like the one she has her hand on in the photo. We imagine they will look nice sitting near the back door of our Tmara Mara Circuit house.

Today we had lunch with work colleagues at one of their houses and tonight I'm attending the inaugural dinner of the Al Ain Mature Men's Club which I organised (quite accidentally) to coincide with "Women's Night" at the Casa Romano Restaurant at the Hilton Hotel. I've been having regular day dreams of wall to wall Oriental beauties all day, but I'll probably find just a sprinkling of Western women (probably of the 'we hate men' ilk.)

It's a tough life, but someone has to dream it.

While I'm wining, talking rubbish and ogling at the sights (hopefully), Christina will be attending a student's wedding with another work colleague. When Emiratis get married, the men and women have separate celebrations and there is no mixing of genders (since funny things happen when you let them get together). I do understand that after the ceremonies the bride and groom are allowed to mix and it's highly likely that they even copulate like rabbits after decades of suppressed sexual energy. But, I'm not sure about that.

Hope this finds you having a great time too.

Best wishes

Robin

The Older Guy and The Young Boy

G'day

When Tory came to visit me and my students recently, Christina took this great shot of us in my staff room.

He'd been to visit two student groups, one studying Business and Software Essentials with 23 young ladies and another studying Human Resources Practices with 13 final semester ladies.

Although a bit shy at first, he soon came out of his box and began to talk to the girls and accept the many chocolates, stickers and other gifts they bestowed on him.

As we walked about the college, students whom I've never met, smiled at him and said "Hello". They don't see too many kids with fair hair, blue eyes and a lovely light tan, so he was somewhat popular.

In the latter class he played computer games with a group of girls and spoke to them using a few words of Arabic which I had asked him to speak. That delighted them. Now that Tory is back in Australia and back at school, some of the girls still ask after him.

One of the benefits of getting older is that you can become a grandparent. When one of my work colleagues sent me an email with a photo of his grandson on the bottom and the words, "If I had known being a grandparent was so much fun, I would have had my grandchildren first." I knew exactly what he meant. Being a grandparent is just wonderful.

Cheers for now.

Robin

PS: If you know anyone who needs a web site, somewhere to park it, 10 email addresses and an opportunity to make money, please send them to http://www.web-names.ws

Medal Arrives 36 Years Late

G'day

It arrived 36 years late. No, it's not a strange story about a postal article that fell behind a cabinet in Melbourne Central Postal Office and was found 36 years later. It's a story about being recognised for service 36 years after the event.

Here's the Australian Defence Medal the government has given me in recognition of my service in the Air Force. Better late than never eh?

I'm not quite sure what to do with it ... you can't eat it or drink it, but it must be good for something. Maybe I'll just store it and my kids can sell it after I move on.

The most difficult part of receiving this medal was collecting it from the Al Ain Post Office. Widely reputed for its total incompetence and inefficiency, the post office excelled when my insured parcel arrived. It took no less than four trips from Christina and me to collect it. We found that only one person has a key to the insured parcels cabinet and if he goes to prey ... or isn't at work, nothing moves out of the insured parcels cabinet. We found that preying takes at least 30 minutes; that when the postal computer says "delivered" it doesn't actually mean that a parcel has been delivered. But eventually sanity prevailed and I picked up my parcel ... the one I had waited 36 years for.

Best wishes

Robin

PS: What has Tyra Banks got that you haven't?