
The team of local children that normally greet tourists at this location have gone up market, employing a table to display their wares. They were clearly not used to this new sales strategy as nobody (except the old man with his plate of rocks) bothered us with bits of coloured string or small hairy rugs.
Conditions for walking could not have been more perfect, except for the usual haziness over the canyon. We strolled along the path to the ‘tap, tap…...tap, tap’ sound of mother’s walking poles.

A few kilometres later, we picnicked on the edge of the canyon, interrupted (unusually) by hoards of tourists paying outrageous prices for the day trip from Muscat. Karen brought out the banana cakes which were just like the ones mother used to make before she misplaced the oven.
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