Oman: no Wadi Shab this time

The fire was back up to full strength by the time the chaps emerged from their tents and CP and Neil headed off together with the spade. Mrs M’s croissants, which had travelled round most of northern Oman in the last few days, toasted nicely over hot embers before being consumed with jam and fresh Lavazza coffee.

We sat under in the shade for several hours which seemed eminently preferable to attempting wadi Shab. Andy sustained a further injury on the gazebo, which I suspect may have been an attempt at elevating his position in the injury table which stood as follows:








The end of a wonderfully relaxed morning was marked by an early lunch and the inevitable striking of camp. We checked the site for litter one more time before departure as we are not DIRTY, FILTHY PEOPLE. Roger the donkey looked distinctly sad as we drove back to the highway in a cloud of dust, continuing to Muscat via one more army checkpoint (three in total on this trip).

With everyone showered and smelling fresh, we sat around the dinner table that evening with vats of spaggy bol raising a glass to another successful holiday courtesy of Mrs M Tours.