Andorra the Explorer

Shortly after Michelle and Annette left we headed for Dubai, caught a plane to Heathrow, took a car to Gatwick then flew to Toulouse, were picked up by Denise and Ray and driven to Andorra - a narrow little state in the Pyrenees between Spain and France. It used to be a smuggling route between the two but it now makes its money from skiing and, as it's not part of the EU, from cheap cigarettes and alcohol. Every gas station, supermarket or small corner shop is loaded with cigarettes and alcohol. If you want to eat you may be out of luck, but if you need a fag or a drink you're in the right place! Denise and Ray have a little one bedroom apartment in Soldeu (Andorra) just a short walk to the gondola and you're up onto the skifield. They stayed at a friends place, literally just across the road and we had the use of the apartment for the week.

On Day One we had a sleep-in, picked up skis and boots and had a look around the area. Matija was very lucky to get a ski suit, gloves etc. from Aunty Denise so she was toasty warm and very styley all week long. Soldeu is a genuine little alpine village - there are a few older stone buildings with wooden beams and even cows housed at street level, and while there are many more newer buildings and apartments they are required to have stone facades and fit with the old village. Very nice. There seem to be a string of small villages, towns and resorts through Andorra and most are adjacent to skiing or have a gondola up to the snowfields. We went for a drive and a walk onto one of the skifields and Matija was determined to throw some snow. Unfortunately she kept picking blocks of snow and ice as big as her head and had trouble lifting them, let alone throwing them. An afternoon pizza and beer in the sun overlooking the fields and we felt like we could easily settle in for the week.

Day Two saw us up the mountain and hitting the slopes with Denise and Ray. One of us stayed with Matija on the learner slope while the others did a run or two then swapped over. Matija remembered her skiing from a couple of years ago at Ruapehu and quickly got the hang of it. By the end of day one she was skiing along the beginner slopes and even catching the rope tow up by herself. Ande and I were pretty rusty and I'd never used carving skis before, so the week of ski school we'd booked into was a very good idea. Despite this and the crushing pressure of my rental boots, we had a great day. The weather was beautiful, the snow was good and we got to ski miles and miles of new terrain. Awesome.

Day Three saw us up the hill for our ski lessons. Matija was booked into ski school too. She had three hours of ski lessons with Steph (the instructor) in the morning. Luckily she had met her Steph in the pub the night before and spent most of the night climbing around so she could watch and idolise her. A great start to a student/teacher relationship. We would meet her for lunch for an hour after our lessons then she went back into the childcare/playcentre and we hit the slopes with Denny and Ray for the day.

Ski school didn't start well. We had to ski down a slope, one at a time so that the instructors could rate us and draft us into the correct group for our abilities. Unfortunately the person at the top, sending us down, was a bit of a wally and sent everyone down so quickly that the instructors scarcely got a chance to see people skiing and in Ande's case, didn't see her ski at all. She got drafted into a lower group than I did, which was completely unfair as she is a far better skiier. Never mind, I got Chris as an instructor. He was a very good skiier, but had the personality and natural charm of a fencepost. Not an old rustic one either, or a nice solid strainer. More a post that's slightly fat at the wrong end or that someone's put slightly out of line. You don't want to go and bash it with the post rammer every time you go past, but you do wish that some bastard had put a better one in in the first place. Not the world's greatest encourager/motivator. Ande, on the other hand had a really nice guy for an instructor, although the group were tackling slopes far easier than she was used to.

Anyway we headed off in our respective groups for the morning, skiing around, doing some exercises and practicing the things we needed to do to be better skiiers (most things for me, as my technique was to skid around the corners, rather than carve with the ski's). We also got to meet a few new people and enjoy the awesome mountains up there. Not bad at all. By the end of the day Matija was doing a brilliant snow plow (pizza in their terms), she could stop and she could stand up when she fell over. Very cool.

More of the same followed for most of the week. The weather was settled, sunny and relatively warm and Matija was learning at a frantic pace. By the third day she was heading off around the mountain with her little group of three rather than hanging in the beginners bit. The ski shop hadn't believed a 4year old would keep skiing all week so hadn't let us pay a full week's hire. In the end she skiied for seven days straight - although a couple of mornings we had to cajole her up the mountain a little bit as she was getting worn out.

We broke all the skiing up with a bit of night life. We stopped for a beer a few evenings - when a little two piece band got Matija up for the second night to play the tambourine they let her keep the tambourine and a red cowboy hat. A band of the local ski instructors gave us a great night with their 'crowd favourite' party songs and Ande ended having a late one with Denise and a few stayers.

We also enjoyed some great afternoons skiing with Denise and Ray. We ventured over to a frozen lake with a restaurant and did some more hard core skiing down some more difficult runs. We did hit a run that was a bit gnarly one afternoon and when Ray tried to cut inside Ande rather than letting her go he ended up catching an edge and falling headfirst, then sliding fifty or sixty metres down the mountain. He was a bit battered and bruised and took some time out that afternoon, but he was back up the mountain the next day.

On Thursday night we got the news that George, Ande's Dad, suffered a stroke and his prognosis was uncertain. There was nothing we could do at that stage so we went up the mountain on Friday, finished our respective classes and did a timed run down a slalom. It was a bit warm and slushy when we went down and it felt dead slow but we got some photos and it led to the prizegiving that night at one of the local bars, a good chance to have a beer and a chat to our classmates. Matija also graduated from her ski school - thanks to Steph's efforts she could stop, turn, slow down, catch a chairlift, pomma or rope tow and ski down the mountain! Unfortunately we got the news later that night that George was in a bad way and the girls should fly back to NZ asap.

It was a shock and we were all upset to hear the news, particularly when we were so far away. Fortunately we could support each other and Ande and Denise were up late booking flights and getting organised. The next day we said our goodbyes and Ray drove them down to Toulouse to get on a plane for a bloody long trip home. Matija and I took it easy till lunchtime, then we went up the mountain for a last ski. It was a bit warm and because she's still so little I had to tow her across the flat bits, but we skiied across to the 'circus', an area where there was circus music and a little track with a slalom, some humps, curved corners and obstacles to ski under and around. Matija loved it and we did three circuits, catching the chairlift back every time, then skiied along the trails right to the bottom of the mountain. She has a great snow plough, far better than mine and I was very proud of her.

The next day we packed up and headed down to St Pierre, a coastal resort town in Southern France where Denise and Ray have an apartment. The country scenery was beautiful on the drive down and we passed many rustic little towns and villages. We stopped for lunch in the old part of a French town and enjoyed beautiful sandwiches and excellent coffee with people saying 'merci' and 'ouvoir' and 'bonjour'. It's amazing how third and fourth form French come back when you are in those situations. You can also nearly guess the written words as the base is so similar to English, unlike Arabic where you don't even have much idea what the characters sound like. It was very different from Andorra or the middle east and a great experience because of that.

Denise and Ray's place is a lovely modern two bedroom apartment with plenty of outdoor space and everything you need. It's light and bright, with plenty of kiwi art and it was great to spend a few days there. We ate out the first night at a neat little restaurant by the sea called Tahiti. What I loved was that every restaurant offers a set menu, usually with a salad bar, a selection of mains and a dessert bar. The food was great and the price was very reasonable. The wine was also cheap and it made eating out a real option. It was also really good healthy food, lots of nice salads and veges and yummy deserts (not so healthy but very tasty).

Matija and I helped trim the garden back one day, we visited Narbonne and had an awesome walk along the canals, checking out the boats before heading into the town centre and drinking espresso's. Matija decided she was hungry and she chose a huge raw salmon sandwich at the counter. The young woman behind the counter seemed certain that Matija wouldn't like it, but we insisted and she shrugged and handed it over. I was very pleased that Matija cleaned up the whole sandwich herself and loved it.

We went for another good walk around St Pierre, stopping at a playground then walking back through the shops, trying out some local sweets and munching out on a custard tart at a seat beside the road. It was a really lovely town and just a shame that Ande and Denise weren't there to share it with us. Matija missed Mum too and got a bit stroppy a few times to prove it. She was also waking up a couple of times every night which disturbed Dad's beauty sleep too.

We'd earlier planned to get to Eurodisney after St Pierre, so Matija and I decided to carry on with that. We could get a train from Bezier, so Ray dropped us there one morning and we caught one train, the TGV right to the stop at Marne la valle (Eurodisney). It was an amazing train, they travel at about 300km/h, they're very smooth, quiet and comfortable. You don't realise how fast you're going until you come alongside a motorway and the cars are disappearing behind you as if they're not even moving. We'd packed a lunch, but there was a dining car and coffee and it was a great way to travel. Matija wanted to walk up and down to the dining car all the time, but at least we could stretch our legs and there were loos there too.

We whizzed right through Paris and arrived at Marne le valle late in the afternoon and caught the complimentary bus to the Explorers Hotel, about 5 mins from the station. It was a big hotel set up for families visiting Disneyland. They had a playground and a swimming pool with a pirate ship and waterslides. Matija was rapt when she had her own bunk bed in a seperate room from me. It was full of English families visiting Disney and Matija loved the place. We hit the waterslides and Matija was really brave, riding on the fast one (for 6yrs +) with me, then even going by herself. I had to wait at the bottom as it was too deep for her to swim when she came flying out of the pipe at the end.

Next morning, after a buffet breakfast that was a bit like boarding school with about two hundred excited kids thrown, in we caught the bus to the main attraction. I didn't really know what to expect, but once you've brought the ticket (not cheap) you can go on any of the different rides and visit different areas without paying any extra. There are six or seven different themed areas (about 7 acres each) and these range from little Wild West towns to Space Age cities, to Princess Castles and African/Middle Eastern villages. Each area has little rides for little people as well as great big kick-arse roller coasters or steam boats or water driven rides. There were also opportunities to meet Disney characters like Micky, Pluto, princesses etc at various times in different parts of the park. It was all very well done. It was raining lightly when we got there and stayed pretty cool, which was probably a good thing. We were there on a wet Thursday in the off-season and we still had to queue for up to 30minutes for some rides. I would hate to be there on a peak season weekend. It just wouldn't be worth the queueing.

Mickey Mouse wasn't far inside the entrance so we queued for a photo with him (just as it started raining), then wandered down to the Wild West place. Matija insisted on going on the train ride, Thunder Mountain, even though it looked like about the scariest ride in the place. I shrugged and joined the queue and we ended up catching the manic little train through collapsing mines, under the lake, over a twisty, turning little mountain through caves that groaned and shrieked and back to the platform. Matija didn't cry, but she buried her face in my sleeve and closed her eyes most of the way. She was pale when we got off and kept telling me it was scary. She was a little shy of the other rides for the rest of the day. It was great that a seven or eight year old boy got off ahead of us and was bawling his eyes out. I could tell her how brave she'd been.

We went through the princess castle and got to see Cinderella before spending a lot of time trying to get through the maze to the Mad Hatters Tea Party and visiting a funny little house. We went on a huge carousel and rode the teacups before heading through the Small World ride with all the singing puppets from around the world - very cool although Matija had to be cajoled/dragged into the little boat (still suffering after Thunder Mountain).

We had lunch at some African? themed place then headed over to the space age part where we rode the Buzz Lightyear ride and shot at evil aliens (and the people behind us) with little laser guns. We queued for quite a while for Automania (or something similar) where Matija got to drive the car around a railed track. She did a great job and we took a coffee/hot chocolate break in the theatre where you watch old Disney cartoons.

Matija had spotted a princess dress that she adored back at the Castle and since she has a Princess Ball coming up here in May (a school fundraiser) we went back and got it, along with a crown and glass (plastic) slippers. She loved it and insisted on wearing it to watch the Disney parade. What's a Dad to do? The Parade was still 40 minutes away but she was shagged so we sat on a kerb and waited with hundreds of others. It was well worth it as she recognised all her favourite Fairy Tale characters, from Pluto and Goofy to the Princesses, the cast of Toy Story, evil uncle Scar from the Lion King, Peter Pan and the evil Stepmother from Snow White. She absolutely loved it and one penguin even took her hand and bowed to her as he recognised a true princess in the crowd. It was a great day out, we missed Mum, but we decided we'd have to take her back with us next time.

The next morning we breakfasted with the hordes, then took the bus to catch the train to Paris. In Paris we took a couple of Metro trains to get to the Eurostar at Gard du Nord, caught that to St Pancras Station in London then took the underground to Heathrow. We got held up for about an hour on that train, but as we had six hours to fill in at Heathrow it wasn't a problem. After a big wait we caught the plane at about 10pm, arriving in Dubai at 7am, but losing 3 hours on the flight, caught a cab to a friend's place where the car was stored, had a coffee and drove back to Al Ain. It was a hell of a long trip really and I can only blame myself as I was the silly bugger that booked it. Never mind. It was a massive holiday, one that had it's ups and downs and one that we won't forget in a long time.

Visitors

I hate blogging when I have nothing to write about - there's no shortage of news for this one. The Aunties out for a Visit My sister and her friend Annette came out for ten days or so and we completed a whirlwind week around the Emirates and into Oman. It was great to spend a decent amount of time with Michelle and to meet Annette, who was quickly adopted as one of Matija's aunties. After picking the girls up in Dubai, being overtaken by a couple of idiot drivers and seeing one of them upside down beside the motorway a couple of kays later, we made it back to Al Ain. We were straight into a 4wd trip with a few of the offroad group out by the airport, just 15 minutes from home. Good fun, a chance to see some desert and the passengers even got to see three of the local (expat) ladies help get an Emirati out of a serious stuck. We had a look around town on Thursday but the girls barely had time to settle in because on Friday (or Saturday?) we headed off to Liwa, a desert Oasis in the east of the UAE. We drove for a few hours and met up with some more of the Offroaders before heading into the sand at Madinat Zayed, and pitching the tents in a hurry. We got a few hours driving in on the dunes there, mainly practicing longer descents so those heading on another trip the next day got the hang of them. You can't afford to brake on the big slopes, you just have to plug it into a low gear and let the engine do the work. If you brake and lose the rear end you're likely to find it slipping out the side and before you know it you'll be rolling down the hill. Not the best way to get down! We had a quick 13km trip back to camp and Ande was lucky to be in another vehicle as Matija's tummy objected to the bumps and she threw up in the back of the Xtonka (thank goodness her clothes collected most of it). We arrived back in time to cook a barbecue and settle around the fire for the evening. It had been cool during the day and was positively cold that night. We'd loaned Michelle and Annette lightweight sleeping bags but they obviously aren't used to cold conditions in Southland and both of them froze for most of the night. We were a little heavily loaded for the big trip the next day so we headed to Liwa proper and got a look at some of the biggest dunes in the area before heading back. We checked out the big Moreeb dune where they have a grandstand and do some pretty spectacular hillclimbing on the UAE's biggest sand dune. Not for the faint-hearted. It actually started raining as we were driving back, only the second rain we've had since we've been here, so it was certainly an unusual trip and those in the sand dunes found themselves driving in gluggy soup that filled up the tires and made turning nearly impossible. We spent a few days visiting the markets, malls, souqs and landmarks before heading off to Musandam, the northern territory of Oman. Our mate Murray took his Pathfinder and Marion, our neighbour came too - she was invaluable as she'd been there before. It was a pretty big drive to the border, we did find an interesting camping shop on the way and crawled through Ras Al Khaimah, a northern emirate where the road was cracking and sinking under the weight of thousands of trucks and the scenery was bleak - a procession of grubby roadside shops and three huge cement factories. We finally got through the border into Oman and were immediately greeted by stunning roadside beaches tucked just under towering cliffs and hillsides. We stopped for a late lunch and a swim in beautiful water then made our leisurely way to Khasab, cruising up some side roads into villages and having a look around. The place is very different to the UAE. The villages are generally small and tidy with smaller houses, goats wandering the streets and a few people out and about. When we got to Khasab we booked in for a dhow cruise the next day then went for a drive to find a camping spot. There was a spot in some acacia trees, but we ended up driving over a hill and down a snaking track into the only bay accessible by car in the Musandam. Fishing boats were coming home and guys were packing up nets but we found a nice spot back off the track and up the hill from the designated camping area. We were close to an old graveyard. In this part of the world graves are usually just marked with a rock at the feet and another one at the head . There were a few old ruined huts and shelters around and it proved a great place to camp. There was even a water tank down at the edge of the bay. We had our own wood for a campfire and settled in for dinner and a snooze. In the morning we were visited by the local goats and after Murray fed them we couldn't get rid of them again. After packing up we went for a drive, looking for the track towards Dibba, on the other coast. The track was on our maps, but it took half an hour to find it as it was only signposted from one direction and it was just a gravel path veering sharply away from a sealed road. Anyway we climbed quite a way up into the mountains, past a few old stone villages and a helipad, then stopped where we could get a view back where we'd come. We were at a little village and there was a grassy plain stretching for a couple of kays to the next big hills. A few sheep and goats were grazing there in fenced paddocks (some of the only one's we've seen up there). It was quite spectacular and we went for a little walk up one of the tracks and a photo stop before coffee and dates. We made it back in time to catch the dhow up into Musandam. It's a big area of inlets and fishing villages beneath stark cliffs and it really is quite spectacular. From Khasab the Omani's export cigarettes, tv's, shoes and all manner of stuff into Iran. This is legal from the Oman end, but highly illegal from Iran. Hundreds of high speed boats are continually powering out of Khasab, heavily loaded with big boxes of stuff. There is a constant stream of overloaded utes carting stuff to the wharf and trucks unload and pack onto smaller vehicles in carparks, on the side of the road and anywhere else they can fit. It's a little crazy. Apparently they hit the beaches in Iran and load out onto waiting trucks. Those that get caught pay cash 'fines' instantly or get to spend a bit of time in Iran's jail system. It's a crazy kind of town, living on the smuggling, a few date plantations, tourism and fishing. We saw lots of little boats heading out and when we came back the fish were spread out all over a wharf and there was some kind of auction going on with guys yelling, waving and bumping each other. We cruised under the cliffs and past a few fishing villages to a spot where another boat was parked. The skipper made a few wavy gestures and then gunned the motor and tore past the other boat. As soon as he did a group of dolphins came for a swim in the pressure wave to the side of the dhow . There were six or so and they played for around ten minutes before disappearing again. We carried on to a little island where we tied up and went for a snorkel. There were a few corals underwater and quite a bit of sea life. We made it back for a lunch on the boat - grilled fish and chicken with salads , bread and fruit, then cruised back to khasab. The dhows are reasonably big and you lounge around on cushions. They're not that noisy and they don't go very fast, making it quite a mellow, laid back kind of a cruise. We saw the dolphins again on the way in and stopped at a seafood restaurant fo r a bit of fish before camping at a beach under some cliffs just out of Khasab. At about 11pm, when we were all asleep the local boys had a little music and dance session not far from us, drumming loudly and dancing in their vehicle headlights, then a scooter rode past us with 3 on board and a stereo absolutely booming. It's not unusual for this part of the world, at least they didn't keep going for long and Annette managed to capture it with video on her camera. The next day we packed up and headed into town for a little Indian breakfast. Marion recommended a little place where we had sweet, milky coffee then paratha (fried breads) with dahl or a little curried vegetable mix. It was hot, spicy and very yummy in the morning - a great start to the day. Just across from us there was another little auction going on, we think it was for the little utes to carry massive loads to the dock - you wouldn't believe how much stuff they put on little trucks and how badly all of their suspension was treated. Nearly all of them had their numberplates dragging on the ground. We stopped for a couple of swims, then made the big drive back to Al Ain. We took a different route this time and took a detour around Dubai and Sharjah, the trucks along this route were nose to tail for around 15 kilometres. There are about six lanes, but trucks can only use the far left lane and they're not allowed to overtake so they just form a massive line and crawl along. Most of the ones we saw weren't even moving. Incredible! We made it back on about Wednesday (I think) then had a couple more days before the girls flew out. We did a trip up Jebel Hafeet for a view over the area and called in to see a water park where they're going to have the world's biggest standing wave (why would you want the second biggest?) and they've nearly completed a couple of kayak courses complete with conveyor belts so you can get back to the start without having to leave the water. Cool! Apparently there's an easier one and a Grade 4 run. Could be interesting. I'm getting lost, maybe we went to Abu Dhabi before this? Can't remember. Some friends came over one night and we had dinner then went out to one of the worlds best cellist s playing (his cello) at an outdoor event at one of the forts. It was amazing music at an extraordinary location - something a bit different. Anyway, at some stage we went to Abu Dhabi with the aunties. We had a lovely roast lamb dinner at Jenny and Kevin's and they roped Ande and I into getting aboard a couple of boats and being safety officers for the Abu Dhabi Triathlon. Interesting, but not that exciting as no-one needed rescuing. The aunties had a quality morning with Matija before we did a quick tour of Abu Dhabi. We did get to see the Grand Mosque, it was a shame we couldn't make one of the tours but we got geared up with abaya's and khandoora so that we could have a look. Just made it before it closed for prayers, but at least we got a look. We also visited the family beach and did a bit of shopping at the Marina Mall, one of the big malls in town. We tried to visit the Emirates Palace, but the jolly Sheikh was hosting a meeting so we weren't allowed in. It was a huge ten days or so with the girls - fantastic to get to show them a bit of the UAE and to spend some time with them. I dropped them off to the airport for their flight and I'm sure they were looking forward to catching up on some sleep. Will end this post now and catch you up with our Andorra trip next time.

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DESERT ANGEL

Christmas in Damascus

Why Damascus?

Damascus is one of the oldest cities in the world, it's just over 3 hours flight from Dubai and its population is around 20% Christian so they do celebrate Christmas. I'm also keen to include Damascus in a book I'm researching/thinking about, so I wanted to see the place in the flesh. Damascus also has one of the Middle Easts great souks.

We flew with Fly Dubai, a budget airline out of Dubai where the seats are cheap and you pay extra for everything - headphones, movies, food, drinks etc. It wasn't a bad flight, although we didn't buy a movie for Matija and decided we would on the return journey. We arrived at a small airport that was slightly reminiscent of Eastern Europe or old Soviet-style buildings. We'd heard the airport could be a nightmare to negotiate, but it was 10pm, we'd already got our visas in Abu Dhabi, there were very few tourists and it was pleasantly straightforward. On walking outside we found there were no vehicles that were obviously taxis. A guy called 'taxi' and came over with a trolley so we said yeah and put our bags on board. We only found out when we got to a taxi that he had nothing to do with them and just wanted a tip for carrying our bags. The taxis from the airport are just private cars, no meters etc. so you never really know if you're being ripped off.

Anyway we headed into the heart of Damascus, about 25mins from the airport. Once we drew into town we saw the place was crowded with tiny little yellow taxis, little trucks, pickups and battered cars and the driving was absolutely nuts. We entered the old city through one of the gates and crawled along tiny one-way streets that cars shared with pedestrians and bicycles. Everyone had to stop if someone tried to park or drop someone off and people weren't afraid to honk to tell them they were taking too long. The street was lined with shops on both sides, all about 5 metres wide - there were food stalls, little grocers and countless shops selling 'antiques', inlaid wood items, carpets, ceramic tiles and etched copper and brass trays and coffee pots. It was Friday night and there were hundreds of people out walking and enjoying the food.

We eventually arrived at our hotel, Via Recta, a gracious old two-storey house with ten rooms set around a courtyard and fountain. It was beautifully restored with antique furniture and beautiful touches in all the rooms. We had a large room and they'd set up a small bed for Matija so we were all ready to collapse into bed. We were the only ones in the place for the first few days.

Breakfast the next morning was a treat. The breakfast room was down a flight of steps from the courtyard and it had a low-domed ceiling with a lovely tiled floor. An arched door led into a similar room used as a hamam next door. There was cereal there, but the breakfast was really a plate of various cheeses, and olives with another plate of mixed croissants and buns. There was fresh fruit (mandarins and oranges in season) and another plate of dates, apricots raisins etc. Later the guy came down with fresh hard-boiled eggs and coffee.

We headed into the streets after breakfast. We were on Straight Street, which ran right from one end of the old city to the other. There were more upmarket shops, churches and a few hotels at our end of the street (in the Christian quarter) and when you got to the other end there was a massive covered Souk with thousands of shops. Mostly the shops selling similar items are grouped together - the spices shops are close to each other, then there'll be a section of leather coats and bags, then there might be ladies clothes shops, then some foodstalls and some metalwork places, then carpet sellers etc. The Syrians are more similar to the Turks than the Emiratis. They are generally lighter skinned and shorter, most wear moustaches (including the women), and Western clothes and they were very friendly . In Turkey there were plenty of guys trying to drag you into shops, but the Syrians did it in a much friendlier way, they were just as happy to invite you in for a coffee and a chat and they didn't really do the 'hard' sell. It was also a very quiet time for tourists, which may have taken the pressure off. We had a big walk around in the morning, took it easy in the hotel for a while, then went walking and out for dinner in the evening. We took Matija's stroller - probably for the last time. She had to walk herself in the morning and in the afternoon she was allowed to use the stroller. It made life easier for everyone.

On the second day we visited the Ummayad mosque on the edge of the Old City. It is apparently Islam's third most famous mosque and a magnificent old building. There were once beautiful mosaics in blue and gold tiles all around the walls and some of the remains still exist. This mosque allegedly has the preserved head of Saint Paul, which was discovered many years again during excavations. Salah-ah-din, the great leader who liberated Jerusalem from the Crusaders has a tomb here and there is also a crypt for some famous Shia dude. Busloads of Iranians come along to pay their respects.

It was a pretty religious day really, in the afternoon we visited the church of Ananias, where legend has it that Ananias had a 'vision' that told him to lay hands on Paul 'on a street named Straight'. He laid hands on Paul, who had also had a vision that this was going to happen. Instead of rounding up the Christians he became one of them and became a roaming missionary - not a popular move with Rome (they caught up with him in the end). Finished the day with a few beers and dinner in a little bar not far from the hotel.

The next day we were up early - we'd booked a car and driver to take us to Krac de Chevaliers, one of the worlds most famous Crusader castles and home to the Hospitallers. Jihad (our driver) turned up, he spoke pretty good English and we had a good chance to talk about Syria, Damascus and the Middle East. It was about 2 1/2 hours to the castle, when we got there we had a coffee and then toured the ruins with a local guide. Ande has been to many old English castles and none were in as good condition as this one. It's perched high on a hill top, it has vertical outer walls, a big moat and a massive inner fortress that slopes in to save it from earthquakes. There were 400 knights with horses here and another 500 - 600 soldiers and archers at it's peak. The horses were all stabled inside (with soldiers quarters above the stables to keep them warm) and there were massive store rooms and cisterns to enable everyone to withstand a 5 year seige. The place had plenty of spots for dropping boiling oil on anyone who attempted to take the place, there was a system of pipes and drains for water and sewage and there was a massive oven in the kitchen for catering to everyone. On top of the inner fortress there was the remains of a massive round table (knights of the round table stuff) and the rooms for the top brass at the time. There was also a tower for guests and princesses and a gothic-style church. Our guide knew his stuff pretty well and his English wasn't bad, he just lacked a little excitement and needed to get a bit more enthusiastic about his job. He also complained of a bad back and avoided climbing up and down stairs where possible.

On the way back the car got a flat tyre. That was okay, there was a spare, but one of the wheelnuts was smaller than the others and Jihad couldn't get it off. He ended up driving on the flat for a couple of kays till we were close to a garage and hopping across the six lane highway about 4 times before he got a socket and wrench to fit. Matija was asleep in the back, Ande and I just chilled out and watched the scenery. We were close to a bedouin camp. It was the middle of winter, about 7 degrees celcius and the families live in big tents out in the paddocks, usually with a herd of goats of sheep nearby. Usually the man has a couple of wives and a big mob of kids and they all work for the local farmers, doing the manual work and living in tents. There were similar tents on the outskirts of the city, but gypsies live there, selling a few things but (according to Jihad) making most of their money from pick-pocketing and thieving.

Anyway, with the tyre fixed we continued back. We stopped at Maloula, where Aramaic, the language of the bible is still spoken and a number of overseas religious people visit to learn the language and read the bible as it was written. It is a beautiful village in it's own right, carved back into the rocky mountains. We also went to Sadniya, another village where the world's oldest monastry lives. We visited a church there and one of the nuns gave Matija a bracelet with religious icons on it and a funny tasting little loaf of bread. A very religious experience for us all! It was neat to drive into the old city after that and see all the Christmas lights strung around the Christian area. Very Christmasy.

The next day we did a big walk outside the walls of the old city. We visited the more modern part of town, found an artisan's market and went wandering through a leafy old suburb. Outside the old city the place is crawling with people and markets and sellers of all types. Syria is not a rich country and everyone is trying to make a living one way or another, we saw guys selling everything from toys to goldfish to shampoo and books off the side of the road. There were a few people begging (not many) and more guys who were obviously sleeping rough on building sites. There were quite a number of Palestinian and Iraqi refugees and areas of housing that were slapped up in a weekend to avoid officials preventing their construction. Any waste land was pretty well covered in plastic bags, cans and rubbish and there were very few parks anywhere in the city, apparently land prices there are astronomical and it's not surprising given the density of living.

We were starving by mid afternoon and found a little place in the 'burbs that made foul madamas - cooked beans or chickpeas with a little parsley/yoghurt sauce and fresh bread. Very tasty. Unfortunately after I ordered it I sat at an outside table and proceeded to drink the bottle of water there, thinking it was ours. It wasn't and I suspect that led to the very bad case of travellers diarrhoea that I suffered from for the next week. If it was just a crook tummy it wouldn't have been so bad but the headaches and fever made things very uncomfortable for the rest of the trip.

On the 24th the sick tummy was in remission and we booked Jihad again and went out to Bosra where we saw ruins of an ancient town dating back to the Nabateans (same ones that built Petra). Frien

ds from Abu Dhabi Cognition were in Damascus too (Jenny and Kevin) and we shared a guide around the ruins. There was a massive Roman cistern, hammams, churches and a huge amphitheatre which is one of the best preserved in the world.

On the way back to Damascus we stopped at Jihad's in-laws for a turkish coffee and some nibbles. It was a beautiful day and we sat out on the deck enjoying the sun and having a chat. They were lovely friendly people, Matija played with the kids and it was a very enjoyable afternoon.

That evening we went out to a nice restaurant with Jenny and Kevin. It was a massive place that served 500 meals a day, but it was well run, there were a host of waiters and they did very tasty food. They also gave us complimentary Arab sweets and fruit after the meal and sent us away with a big white Christmas cake in the form of a log, which Matija loved.

On Christmas day we managed to Skype through to Mary and Denise, then did a wander around the local area. I crashed out in the afternoon while Ande took Matija for a wander and a visit to a hamam, where you wash and get scrubbed and massaged. Ande loved it, Matija was a little sceptical of all these women washing and scrubbing together, but got used to the idea and had a great time. We all had a very tasty shwarma over the road that evening, then packed up for an early flight back to Dubai the next morning.

It was a very different way to spend our Christmas, but one we thoroghly enjoyed. Merry Christmas to every one of our friends and family that reads this , and a happy New Year.

love, Vince, Ande and Matija.

Oh man Oman!

Camping

Since we've had the Tonka we've been picking up some camping stuff so we were ready to do a bit of touring. We had seven or so days over Eid so we hit the road into Oman.

Day One - Qiyut

By the time we did some shopping and some tidying up jobs we had a late start on Day One. We travelled around two hours down towards Nizwa, the old capital of Oman, then headed up into the Hajars, a mountain range running right through the country. They are massive bare rock mountains sliced by wadis (dry water courses) and canyons. We checked out the Hoota caves, with their big cafe and visitor centre but they were closed so we continued to the road to Qiyut. This was a one-way drive up a massive switchback road that goes up, up, up to Qiyut village, just below a peak called Blacktop. The road was all gravel and rock and just got steeper and gnarlier the further we went up. We climbed onto a plateau, then dropped through a gully with at tiny village tucked beside a dry wadi. There were kids playing soccer and people rounding up the goats, then we climbed again till we were perched on a plateau at about 2000 feet. The village of Qiyut wasn't what we expected, it was a walled compound of 9 houses that looked like they were about 3 months old. Anyway we pitched tents on a bit of flat land, lit the charcoal barbie and tried to keep warm. We'd gone from about 30 degrees to about 12 in the space of the climb and we were dressed in all the clothes we'd brought just trying to keep warm. I went for a walk to see the majestic views and couldn't believe how much I was puffing. When I went to sleep I had pins and needles in my hands and a bit of a headache - Ande attributed that to altitude sickness. Hard case. Matija had a tent of her own and we had one to ourselves. She was very brave and did well getting to sleep in her own tent.

Day Two - Wadi Bani Awf

After cereal and turkish coffee we broke camp and crawled most of the way back down the track. We turned off before the main road, cut through some back country and came out on the sealed road to Wadi Bani Awf. This is the only road in Oman that cuts right through the Hajars so we were keen to have a look. The sealed road climbed to about the same height as where we camped, then it turned to a thin gravel track and descended through the mountains in hundreds of switchbacks. There was very little room to pass anyone, the road was carved out of sheer cliffs in places and the gradient was very steep. We spend most of the trip in low range, using the gears to slow us down. At one point I was meandering along in 4WD low gear when I hit a steep up-slope and didn't have the momentum to get up - had to back up and have another go with a bit more oomph. Ande was a little concerned.

When we finally reached the wadi bed, both sides were lined with date palms and little falaj (watercourses) were concreted along the wadi edges to keep water up to the dates. A few small concrete houses made up the village and it must have been wash day because just about every house had a group of women sitting outside washing duvets and carpets or they were draped over the stones drying.

Day Three - Balad Seyt

We stopped at beautiful little grassy spot for a coffee and dates with friendly local goats, then climbed up a steep little path and through a narrow canyon for about twenty minutes to reach the village of Balad Seyt. It's a picture postcard view, you come out of the canyon into the garden area of the village, where little plots are terraced into the flat land. The village rises behind the gardens and date plantations sit off to the left with a few houses and the minaret of a mosque peeking above the palms. We had a wander around there, waved to a few friendly villagers and Ande got photos of the fabulous little doors that lead into the houses. You can also drive there, but it's much more spectacular coming from the canyon.

We continued on to Little Snake Canyon where you can swim in pools up the canyon (the name comes from it's twisty nature, not the slithery reptiles). It was a half hour walk up to the water and Matija was a bit walked out so we found a tiny little pool full of small fish and frogs just 2 minutes from the car. We needed to wash the dust off and Ande was amazed at the way the fish nibble your toes if you sit very quietly. Refreshed, we headed on to our camping spot, just down from another village. There was a French party at the main spot so we made camp near the local soccer pitch and quickly got the tents up as there were a few spots of rain, the first we've experienced since being in Al Ain. We cooked up some kofta (we'd bought a little fridge that runs off the cigarette lighter and keeps everything cool and fresh) and we were entertainment for three village boys that were bouncing on a tree limb and calling across to us. They were good fun and we ended up giving them some chocolate. They were all settled in to have tea with us till we said goodnight and masalama, at which point they ran back to their mates. As they were watching us the older boys were playing soccer on the rocky pitch. Every village has a pitch, no matter how dusty and these guys were extremely good, far fitter and more athletic than the town boys in Al Ain. We sat around the barbie for a while, smoked a bit of lemon/mint hubbly bubbly and had a good solid nights sleep, despite the 4wds rumbling past every few hours. It was the Eid break and many people were coming home to spend the break with their families.

On to Muscat

The next day we cruised on through the remainder of the wadi. The rock walls climbed straight off the sides of the canyon, about 50m apart and it was still a spectacular, twisty drive along the river bed. You could see where floods had previously wiped out the road, but it looked like they ran a grader over it and life went on. We broke out onto a highway and after about 15km took another turn. This one took us past a village then up a wide gravel wadi bed. The tracks disappeared after a kilometre and the gravel was soft and deep in places, we were a little afraid of getting stuck but Ande kept her foot down and the Tonka powered through it. We eventually came to a little streambed with pools. After a 200m walk we came to a beautiful deep pool where we could swim, relax in the sun and let Matija have a swim. No-one else was around and we had the whole place to ourselves. The only shame was that day-trippers had left cans and rubbish here. That's the case at many of the beautiful spots close to town and it's just laziness really - no excuse.

After a few hours chillin' we hit the road for Muscat. We drove across a big plain (mostly barren) and there were gardens and roundabouts for about the last 50km of road heading in to Muscat. The whole road was lined with Omani flags for National day. They must have spent a fortune on it. We did come across an accident where a truck looked like it had smashed into a semi-trailer and had the whole cab sheared off it (unless they'd cut it off to get the driver out). Nasty. We carried on past the business district and came to the port area, with the Sheikhs luxury liner and his dhow parked in the harbour. Muscat is low-rise and quite beautiful, there are strict building codes around the old part of town and it has been preserved nicely. There was also a cool souk with antiques, clothes, etc etc. Ande bought a couple of richly decorated hangings while Matija and I kicked back with an ice-cream.

We'd heard there was camping at the Dive Center about 15mins south of the port. When we drove there we were told there hadn't been for 6 years. We drove a little further south and headed to the coast. There was a big area (acres) of fill, as though someone had started a property development and when we got up close we saw a breakwater and a little beach. We ended up camping there and found out that it was the Dubai Sheik's land, he was going to put a palace there, but the recession struck and it went on hold. It did give us a lovely camping spot. That night I read about Masirah Island, a desert island about 5 or 6 hours south. It sounded exciting so the next morning we headed out for that.

Day Four - Road to Nowhere

We took a wrong turn trying to get back to the highway and ended up going through a township tucked under some hills. It was the morning of Eid and there were sheep and goats being slaughtered left, right and centre. People were slitting throats, (as Muslims and Kiwi sheep farmers do) cutting up carcasses, washing away blood or carrying away plastic bags of meat (they keep a third, give a third to family and a third to the poor). There were hundreds of men standing around, drinking tea and chatting. It was a real local experience and well worth getting a little lost for.

We eventually got on the right road and did a big days driving. After a few hours driving we got to the road that runs between the coast and the Wahiba Sands (an area of desert about 200km long by 30km wide) the road had a funny sign saying "under construction" on it. Anyway the road was good initially, but none of the towns on the map matched the ones in real life (if they even had a sign), and they got progressively rougher, till there was absolutely no greenery, the houses were little concrete boxes with a bit of graffiti and boy racers were cruising up the roads in groups of 5 or 10. Certainly not the tourist zone! After every village there were fishing boats pulled up on the beaches. That's where people made their money and obviously there wasn't much else to do. The wind got up and sand was whipping across the road, visibility dropped and we were now coming across rough Bedouin camps with camels and goats and shacks of tin, tarpaulin and cardboard. There were 4WD's at many of the shelters and it was very hard to tell if people were actually living there or not. It was getting late and the road was now unmarked, we were wondering how soon it was going to run out or turn to a goat track. Anyway we struck the road construction crew just on dark. The road went from seal to gravel to rock to goat track within about 300m. Luckily our turnoff to the island was just at the end of the roadworks. If the boys had worked another couple of hours they would have finished the job before Eid! We took the turnoff, drove across massive salt flats then arrived at a tiny town with a jetty and very little else. We got talking to a bloke from the island. He got on his phone and found out that the ferries had stopped at 1pm that day due to the wind and the next ones were expected in the morning.

We blew up our air bed and hunkered down beside a building, trying to keep out of the wind for the night. I cooked some pasta on the gas cooker, but it was too windy to get any heat. Eventually I climbed deep into the breakwater, which was made of big concrete star shapes and found a little spot big enough to get the cooker going out of the wind. Some local bedouin lads came over to see what was going on and thought it was the funniest thing they'd ever seen. I had to pose for a few photos for them.

Day Five - Mayhem at Masirah

Anyway, the wind died a little overnight. We had some breakfast and had a wander along the jetty. People had been arriving through the night and there were about 60 cars and a few trucks waiting. We sat and had a chat with a friendly Emirati from Dubai and he explained that it was a bit of a rush for the ferry and you'd have to get in quick if you wanted a place.

By 9am the ferry was chugging into view. There were about 15 cars on it, coming to unload, and no room for any more than that. Well, we joined the rush to get on. Cars tore up to the end of the ferry dock, jammed in tight and waited. When the ferry got there the cars were too close for it to dock, so they yelled and waved to get everyone to back up a bit. Eventually they moved a few metres and the ferry docked, but it took about an hour to force a gap so they could unload the cars already there. Then the ferry backed off again! It faked as if it was going halfway along the wharf and half the cars bolted that way. We waited with the rest. Unfortunately it pulled out a bit, faked back, then went in halfway along the wharf.

It was chaos. There were no tickets and no system. Everyone got in bumper to bumper, beeping, yelling and waving, one car lost a tail light and we had a car bump our wheel. Cars finally started going on, but they were turning them around on the ramp and other cars were nudging into the way preventing them turning around. There were about a dozen guys on the ramp, yelling waving and cursing. Ande was outside, trying to gain us some space and someone bumped into her leg. She pretended to be critically wounded, but they just honked and yelled for her to get out of the way. A bumper got torn off. Lots more yelling. The local we'd talked to the night before only turned up when half the boat was loaded, but miraculously he managed to be the last car on board. He knew the captain. Finally the ferry was loaded and we were about three cars back from it, still on the wharf.

Fortunately Ferry #2 arrived just as Ferry #1 departed. We'd maintained a good natured attitude at the first ferry docking and quite a few people knew we'd spent the night at the terminal, so we had a few friends now. Everyone else was facing the ferry, so when we were jostling for position I backed the Tonka in, so I didn't have to turn it around. Anyway, with a bit of help from our friends we got a space, hustled on board and finally steamed off towards the island. It was a 1 1/2 hour trip and still a bit choppy. It was standing room on the bridge and quite a bit of salt water splashed over the vehicles on the trip. Matija thought it was good fun.

We berthed at the main town, with a population of 6000 or so. There are a couple of hotels there, quite a number of little shops and a few fish processing factories. We picked up a bit of water and headed around the west coast of the island. It's a real desert island with sand, some bare mountains in the middle and very little else. There were a couple of run-down date plantations on the far side, but the west coast was basically empty apart from a few beaches of fishing boats and some rudimentary shelters.

There's a sealed loop road around the island and you head off on sandy tracks in your 4WD to get anywhere else. We drove for half an hour then headed to the coast and found our own deserted little beach. There was a fisherman laying a net and he said it was a good spot and that we were above the tideline, so we set up camp. It was a lovely relaxing afternoon, the sea was very shallow at this point but we snorkelled around a bit, played in the sand and went for a lovely walk in the late afternoon. There were literally thousands of crabs scuttling ahead of us and whenever we stopped walking we could hear them clicking and clattering over the rocks and sand.

Day Six - Crabs at sunset.

The next morning our fisherman friend was back checking the nets and he dropped us off a medium sized fish and three lovely big crabs with beautiful blue legs. We kicked back for a while, then headed around the island and stopped on the East Coast. The water was more choppy here and obviously deeper. Ande and I both went snorkelling and saw thousands of fish, from little schools of bait fish to big silver ones, some that looked like catfish, parrot fish, a groper and schools of a tasty looking blue fish. I also saw a sea snake tucked in some rocks. Fantastic. There was also a big turtle carcass up on the beach among crab holes. I'd been snorkelling for a while and started to get really itchy. I didn't think much of it till Ande came out scratching like anything. The water was a little murky with little jellyfish and they were upsetting her a great deal more than me. We chopped up some crab and chucked it on a hand line. We were getting it stripped in seconds but nothing hung about long enough to get hooked. Never mind.

We cruised around the rest of the island and found a deserted well by a half-dead date plantation. It had a bucket and everything so we hauled up some water and had a wash in fresh water - the first for a couple of days. It was far more satisfying to haul up your own bucket than to stand under a shower nozzle. Everyone should do it more often!

We continued up to the top of the island, to where turtles nest at night. The main turtle beach was pretty exposed and close to town. It was very windy so we agreed to camp a little further south. Heading off the main beach though we stopped for a couple of camels who were crossing the road. Ande leapt out and took some pictures while the camels came to say hello. Matija was a bit worried when one poked it's head in the window, but it was only being friendly.

We found a spot a little to the south and luckily didn't get too far off the hard sand as we saw some locals bogged up to the axles and two more 4WDs were needed to drag them out. It was blowing a gale by then but luckily Matija was happy to sleep in the car, we tied our tent to that and used chair and sleeping bag covers filled with sand to hold the tent down. We managed to get the charcoal bbq going, grilled the fish and boiled up the crabs. It was a bit of a feast really, along with some fresh bread we'd picked up in town and a salad (and a bit of sand).

Both Ande and I woke at different times during the night and went walking to look for nesting turtles. We didn't find any, but talking to the guys at the ferry the next day it didn't sound like there were any turtles around while we were there.

Day Seven - Homeward bound

We broke camp and arrived at the ferry just in time to be the last car on. After the crossing we crossed the salt flats again and when I saw some Indian guys shovelling salt into sacks I had to go back and take a photo for cousin Matt (who sells salt). Unfortunately I thought I had space to do a U turn, but the side of the road dropped off very steeply. The oncoming traffic was doing about 140, flashing their lights and tooting as I completed the 3 point turn. Ande told me she thought I was taking it a little casually!

We got the shot, then continued up the more inhabited side of the sands. We were making good time so decided to complete the haul back home that night. We arrived in Nizwa about four and had a poke around their awesome souq. Ande found some silver items and we came across a big National Day parade where the locals were singing and marching. They circled a big square waving their swords then tossing them into the air. The people we saw were very much Omani's rather than imports from India or Sri Lanka or Pakistan, which is the norm for the UAE and Qatar. It was all very cool, but we were prepared to run at the first hint of 'death to the Christians' (kidding). Had a shwarma or two in Nizwa then we did the last couple of hours at night. No-one really likes to dip their lights out there, the speed limit is 120 and drivers don't mind tailgating. We were glad when we got to the border crossing, got our entry and exit visas and made it back to our own beds for the night.

All in all a fantastic holiday in awesome Oman.