Monday 18 September 2006

Oman: The Dive Centre

I joined the family after work at the Oman Dive Centre where they had been toasting like greased pigs on a spit for several hours. They went for a snork earlier in the day in which Flossie ventured only centimetres from the boat as the sea was too wet, and Al had a conversation with a Moray Eel. Mrs M’s enormous smiley cheeks confused the rest of the fish.

The evening meal was highly entertaining. The main course of the buffet was individually prepared by a chef who was unaware he was using Indian chillies rather than the local variety. Although familiar with the occasional hearty curry, Al was soon in a position to brief chef on his error. Chef apologised profusely and prepared another chilli-free plate to sooth the sweat-soaked gentleman. We laughed unsympathetically, remembering Al’s first chilli trauma in a Thai restaurant in America a few years ago.

Back in the room, we wrestled to find appropriate lighting to enable mother to participate in a game of Pictionary. We let the children win.

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