The Prado was sitting in the drive at a rather unusual angle last week due to a puncture, probably caused by building site debris. This was therefore an appropriate time to replace all four tyres which I’d been putting off for a couple of months.
With usual trepidation I headed for Wadi Al Kabir to a shop recommended by a well-seasoned colleague. Unfortunately, a stack of cars piled up in front of the premises forced me to head to the area where most of the tyre shops are located. The place looked like the pit lane of a racing circuit minus the health and safety rules. At one of the shops I have frequented before, we agreed a price and the guys proceeded to whip off the wheels and set to work, slowed down only by my request to check the dates on (yes, of course all four) tyres. Further complications arose as I wanted them to scrape the tar and grit (collected last year in Salalah) off the inside of rims, before they were balanced. If looks could have killed.
Half an hour and a handful of cash later I was testing the balancing on the highway. Pretty good actually. I was a happy boy.
With usual trepidation I headed for Wadi Al Kabir to a shop recommended by a well-seasoned colleague. Unfortunately, a stack of cars piled up in front of the premises forced me to head to the area where most of the tyre shops are located. The place looked like the pit lane of a racing circuit minus the health and safety rules. At one of the shops I have frequented before, we agreed a price and the guys proceeded to whip off the wheels and set to work, slowed down only by my request to check the dates on (yes, of course all four) tyres. Further complications arose as I wanted them to scrape the tar and grit (collected last year in Salalah) off the inside of rims, before they were balanced. If looks could have killed.
Half an hour and a handful of cash later I was testing the balancing on the highway. Pretty good actually. I was a happy boy.
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