Friday 9 November 2007

Oman: oh I do like to be beside the seaside....

As the sky above the horizon turned golden-orange, I wandered up and down the beach causing panic among the yellow crabs on the sand and the red crabs on the rocks. The Darlington dogs wagged frantically in their nylon prison camp, but were strangely silent as I sneaked past trying not to wake their masters.

Campers emerged couple-by-couple until the smell of English camping breakfast wafted across the beach. Traditional beach pursuits were then undertaken. Ian fished from the rocks, tormenting fish which retaliated by stealing his floats. There is at least one fish in the sea trying to explain to his mates why he is wearing outsized florescent yellow and pink jewellery in his mouth. Mrs M snorkelled with Steve and Lou, using hair dryer devices to propel them though the cool clear water. Molly posed on the beach for a few photos.

Fortunately, Mrs M found time to incur an injury by falling on the sharp rocks. There were several scrapes and scratches as well as the prospect of a broken thumb. Jan played Florence Nightingale, brewing sweet tea to ward off shock. Lunch preparations were however not hampered. Sadly, as the afternoon rolled on, it was time to head back to Muscat. The camp was dismantled in record time requiring the usual cooling dip in the sea before departure…..ahhhhh.

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