Brick and Mortar

30 Thursday Jan 2014

Our first year in the UAE, Sept 2012-August 2013, the kids were homeschooled by me. They LOVED it. I actually got sick of hearing, “Mom, you’re the best teacher ever!”. It was NON-stop…in my head. Actually I think that was my mantra over the year. It may have sounded a bit more like this though, “You’re a good teacher, you’re a good teacher.”

First day of Kindergarten. Smallest & Youngest in his class.

Jaron (far right) cuts the ribbon at the opening ceremony for the new single track French Immersion school.

A little background. Our last few years in Canada the kids were split up into different schools. When we moved to Prince George, there was only 1 open English spot, and 1 open French spot in a English/French immersion dual track school. Kirsten stayed on track with English for grade 4 and Lilli got the French spot for grade 1. The following year the French Immersion track moved to it’s own school down the street, and Jaron started Kindergarten in French Immersion. Jaron actually ended up doing two years of Kindergarten. Not because he was behind academically or socially (Jaron’s birthday is right on the line for early admission to school so he was actually 2-6 months younger than most of his class mates) he just wasn’t ready for the serious classwork that comes with grade 1 i.e. he needed more time to just play.

Back to starting homeschool in the UAE. I wrote a little blurb about our first week here so this next part is the Reader’s digest version if you don’t want to read a whole other post.

At first I thought I was pretty amazing and I could just Pinterest cool stuff for them to do. Lilli had done really well within the French program and we didn’t want her to lose that. I can’t speak French. Well I can, but I’m sure it’s usually offensive or incomprehensible. So strike one to my plan. We’ll find a tutor I thought…that’s just what we’ll have to do. Then I gave Kirsten a worksheet of math.

She looked at it blankly, “How am I supposed to do this?”

I replied, “I don’t know. You don’t recognise any of it?”

Learning break.

Strike two. I was going to have to learn how to teach grade 7 math. I don’t remember what strike three was for me, but it certainly didn’t take long for me to get there. The end of the first day and I was already completely overwhelmed. I hadn’t even gotten to Jaron yet, who was happily playing on an iPad avoiding me.

My first thought was that we needed to get them into school. Being expatriates though means shopping around at Private Schools for the best deal. I went to two schools. Sharjah English School and Australian International School. I had also heard about K12 icademy (an online American curriculum school with an office in Dubai). When the two private schools were not within my idea of affordable or available I turned to K12 as a trusty backup plan. We signed up immediately and had the books and supplies on our doorstep in a matter of weeks.

Circle Monsters

Jaron then started grade 1 homeschool in an English only environment after having 2 years of French immersion. He had a hard time with matching English sounds to the letters of the alphabet. 4 months we struggled with learning new sounds, him fighting me every step of the way. It was such a struggle that we actually had to walk away from it all together and focus on his other subjects so not to get too far behind. He excelled in counting blocks and completing equations. In fact that was probably the only homework I didn’t have to twist his arm into completing. There were lots of fun games, and apps on my iPad that I considered good practice so that is probably what made it easier.

Lilli and Kirsten remained fairly independent with pushing themselves through and I was really impressed. Self motivation is something I continue to struggle with.

Then Christmas came, and cool camping weather. We were off exploring and experiencing our surroundings what felt like every other weekend. We had the freedom to go whenever we wanted because we weren’t bound within the walls of a “brick and mortar” school. Or so we thought.

Kirsten dissecting a chicken breast.

The kids started to get behind. Our good routine of getting up early being done early, turned into sleeping in and being done early…I think you can see where this is going. We couldn’t translate our cool adventures and exploration into credit for the curriculum. They still had to go through the motions of completing their modules, and handing in their assignments. They didn’t answer to me, I was merely the bullwhip pushing them to complete the work.

Early February we decided to try private school again, not for this year but early admission for the following school year. My first two choices turned me away before I even made it to the desk to ask for an admission application. So I tried a 3rd school recommended to me by dear friends of ours, Scholars International Academy. Kirsten had decided that she liked making her own schedule and would stick with K12 the next year. She came along anyway for Lilli and Jaron’s scheduled admissions testing. Before the test we had a quick tour. We even peaked into a few classrooms packed full of students. When Kirsten poked her head into the gr. 7 class all the students instantly shouted for her to come to this school. When we returned to the office, Kirsten pulled my sleeve and asked, “Can I take the test today too?”.

Angry about math day.

Lilli and Kirsten both tested really well. Jaron did really well with the math, however, he could not read. Facepalm. Right, we had put that off. He would have to be put in to grade 1 (again). I completely understood, but I asked anyway…”Can Jaron be retested before school starts?” I explained that he had only begun to learn to read and understand english sounds and perhaps with the rest of the school year something would click and he would be prepared to enter grade 2. The admissions clerk agreed, but admitted to me that she didn’t think it would be likely that he would advance.

After that meeting WE (I say “we” now because I finally realised I was just as much responsible for their success) were at 35% complete where we needed to be at 50%. Everyday we were playing catch up, we set new goals, did extra modules when we had time, and pushed through harder when we were struggling. Kirsten got behind a bit when she tried to cut corners with her math. Skipping over crucial learning modules that would have helped her understand her test questions better. Frustration came on hard and there were many outbursts and walls put up that made learning nearly impossible.

We got through it. Even though some of us had to stay up until midnight every night for 3 weeks writing essays. We got through it. Kirsten completed all her courses at 90-100%, Lilli still understands French really well, and Jaron could read. Success.

First day of grade 2.

First day of grade 5

First day of grade 8

Jaron was retested the day before school started for Kirsten and Lilli and was advanced to grade 2. The admissions clerk was blown away and asked what we had done to help him, surely I must have hired a tutor. Proud parent moment (PPM), “Just me and him, and a lot of hard work.”

So how are they liking their “brick and mortar” school? Let me tell you, the adjustment was a rough one.

Christmas decorations on Jaron’s classroom door.

Jaron is in grade 2, and LOVES his teacher. She is pretty amazing, and adorable. He has all his classwork in one class, but attends music in the music classroom, and PE on the pitch or in the gymnasium like he would anywhere else.

Lilli is in grade 5, and also has an excellent teacher. However, Lilli doesn’t stay in one classroom for all her subjects. She has a homeroom and must take her books along with her to her other subject classrooms. Kirsten and her share a lot of the same teachers.

Kirsten is in grade 8, her teacher is nice though I hear far more about her drama teacher. The top grade of this school at the moment is grade 9. So Kirsten is a senior, and has a lot of freedom to move around the school. She also changes classrooms for every subject.

The school is based on British curriculum. Most of the teachers are British or british taught. Muslim teachers instruct the kids in the language, culture, and history of the area. This is on top of their compulsory lessons of science, math, english, geography, P.E., world history and culture, and for some another language (so Lilli and Kirsten are learning two languages, French and Arabic). Then of course there are their electives, Drama and music. Jaron has all that as well but no French or Drama.

Some of the teachers are frustrated easily. They demand respect, compliance, and attentiveness in children that don’t have those same demands on them outside of school. The teachers sometimes yell or speak firmly to get their point across and my kids take it so personally. They had a hard time understanding that they weren’t always in trouble. We spoke about this to their teachers when we met for Parent/Teacher meetings mid-Fall. Each one expressed their love and appreciation for our kids (PPM). This term has gone much better, and I sense now that they are possibly even excited some days to go to school.

The one thing that most excites me for them to be in a “brick and mortar” school is the friends that they are making there. The kids they are meeting and hanging out with are from all over the world. I think they literally know one other Canadian at their school, and he’s a teacher. Today I talked with some of Jaron’s friends about what games they like to play. A boy from Africa, another from Pakistan and one from Jordan. They get to learn things about different people and cultures that they wouldn’t otherwise be exposed. They have learned not to judge without knowing. They have learnt to accept differences. Their minds are open. For me that has been the biggest success in bringing my kids half way around the world.

Orient Express

29 Wednesday Jan 2014

Posted by lcmacdonald in Traveling

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Tags

buddha, Central Hong Kong, hiking, Hong Kong, Library, Ngong Ping, running, temple, Victoria Park

James had a conference in Hong Kong at the end of September for a few days.

The Library

We had known for quite a while that he was going, and debated the same length of time as to whether I should go with him. He just couldn’t see how it would work with the kids starting school and me getting a job…-crick, crick-. Thank goodness for such totally awesome, wonderful, accommodating friends that stepped up and drove my kids to and from school for that whole week in September so I could go to Hong Kong – THANKS SO MUCH! I also have to thank his colleague and ‘End-of-the-hallway’ buddy for convincing him to take me along.

James purchased a ticket so I could meet him in Hong Kong. Meet him. I’ve never in my life flown on my own before. James flew direct on Emirates. I flew a connector through Mumbai on a cheaper flight. As if I wasn’t already nervous enough about making my connection on the way to Hong Kong through a foreign airport in India, but surprise, there was also a Tsunami headed towards Hong Kong. I watched the news. I diligently checked my flight status and everything was still on time. I went to the airport, checked in and boarded my flight without any problems. I had chosen my seat well, I ended up in my 3 seat row with one other person, and they were nice. We chatted on and off until we reached Mumbai. The Mumbai Airport…what can I say. I’m surprised the structure hasn’t collapsed under negligence and disrepair. The people are friendly and helpful, but as we rode the rusted, creaky bus from the plane to the airport I felt like my seat was about to come unhinged with every brake or swerve from the driver. Once we reached the terminal I had no idea where to go, and knowing I had just over an hour to get there my face may have had a look of obvious panic. A staff member quickly rushed to my side and asked if I was flying to Hong Kong and pointed me in the right direction, “just follow this hallway until you see another person dressed like me” and off I ran. When I reached the next guy, all smiles and matter of factly he announces to me “There is a Tsunami headed for Hong Kong. Your flight may not take off. If it does not take off we are not responsible nor will you be reimbursed for your flight. Enjoy your day.” ….Awesome.

I rush to my gate. Which by the way is not obvious. I see a sign that has my gate number on it, but it points to a room with no windows, full of seated coughing, sleeping, sweaty people. It looked more like a doctors office then an airline gate. I found a seat and took another look around. This isn’t right. It was then that I noticed that there must be a gap between the row of seats across from me and the wall above them. On closer inspection I noticed stairs leading down. They lead down to my gate – whew. I had arrived just when we should have begun boarding. No one was moving. No one was even standing. So I parked myself within earshot of the call desk and waited. So glad I ran here…. Waiting. I do NOT want to spend the night in this filthy airport. I start to wonder where the toilet is. I look around and see I sign on the wall in front of me. I hear a flush, and the wall slides away in front of me. Directly behind the thin, sliding door, is a toilet. Curiosity cured. I no longer need to use the toilet. Commotion at the call desk I stand just in case, I hear them whisper to another to announce boarding, I am first in line – YES.

Central Hong Kong from our room at the Rosedale

We eventually land in Hong Kong without so much as a hiccup. Well maybe a few bumps, but I’ve been in way worse. Navigating the Hong Kong Airport is a bit easier. I know exactly where I need to go to get a bus and there are many helpful signs reassuring me I am headed in the right direction. The guy at the bus desk is helpful and funny. He happily takes my money and carries my bag to the bus. There are 5 other people on the greyhound size bus. I get a sticker with the name of my hotel on it and put it on my sweater so the driver knows (and I know) where to get off. Everything is so green, and it looking around gives me the impression that it has rained recently. I wonder if I have missed all the excitement of the Tsunami. We reach a light and the bus stops. The driver indicates to me that this is my stop. I grab my bag and look out the window, where am I? He points to an alley way and indicates to me that my hotel is down there. Okay, off I go. Sketchy at first and walk slowly. Once I see it, and my confidence returns I take off towards the Rosedale Hotel.

Our room in the Rosedale.

In the room, I get my bearings, take a few photos and decide to wait to hear from James before wondering off. It’s not too long before James appears and recounts what he has learned from his first day of pre-conference meetings. The Tsunami warning has caused several airlines to cancel all flights to the area until further notice (so glad my cheap airline had my safety in mind). What this means for the conference is that many of the speakers are unable to make it and the schedule would need to be adjusted. The result was James only having conference meetings and presentations from 8-12-ish leaving the afternoons completely open for us to explore together! However, the Tsunami was expected to hit full force that first afternoon and so the majority of business were boarded up for the night and all of the next morning. We joined several other couples from the conference in the restaurant at the top of the hotel for dinner. It was eerily quite on the street as not a car could be seen on the road. The only really indication that anything was happening outside was a few trees that were swaying violently in the wind far below us.

Putting our name on a card at The Peak.

Top of Ngong Ping after James’ run.

Hong Kong Temple

I had a rough idea of places to go see in Hong Kong but wasn’t entirely organized. So our days turned into a schedule of going to the Apple Store (iPhone 5s was just released in Hong Kong), walking away disappointed to the subway, picking a stop on the line, and getting off. In the end, we saw the Walk of Stars, the Hong Kong temple (my first foreign temple experience requiring a translator), Ngong Ping (twice, cause James wanted to run to the top and I didn’t), The Peak and Central (cause that’s where our hotel was). I was also able to have a special lunch with an old friend from high school and see her studio. The weather was humid, and warm. Not entirely different from Dubai except that it actually rained several times.

Pretty much sums up our visit.

My return trip brought similar feelings of anxiety as when I had flown over. My return would involve returning to Mumbai and actually leaving the airport to spend the night in hotel. To do this required me to get a 6 month Visa into India. When I look back at that transaction I think I got ripped off in more than one way in that transaction, but whatever. A car came included with the hotel purchase so I thankfully did not need to wait in a long line, and then hike to a taxi waiting somewhere out on the road into the airport (we drove past people carrying their luggage nearly all the way to the main road. Although my heart did have a little palpitation when I wasn’t on their list of pickups for the night. Good thing I had printed out the confirmation…and it was so late at night. Back to the main road. Anyone who has driven in the UAE, or Europe will have some inkling into the fear I experienced for the 10 minutes I was on the ‘main road’. I arrived into India after dark. In fact by this time it was nearly 12:00 midnight. It was dark. There are no lights on the road except the multiple lanes of headlights coming in your direction. I don’t give a specific number because I can’t be sure how many lanes there was actually meant to be. There were no lines on the road. The drivers didn’t seem to have any sense of order as to where they should be in relation to the other cars on the road. We apparently needed to cross this road. So my driver crept…starting…stopping…making progress, cars swerving around us, lights coming towards us, and then we stopped at a gate. Then my driver explains, “they will search the car” – what? Flashlights in my face, I hear the trunk pop open. All of a sudden we are moving again, through the gate. We drive up to the front doors. My driver grabs my luggage out of the trunk and carries it to the security waiting on the front step. They scan my bag. They scan me. I’m thinking this is crazy. I just did this 3 times to get out of the airport. I’m clear so they let me go.

The staff was so friendly, no really they were. After all the searches, and the short, scary drive over, and just being really tired on top of it all, the lady behind the counter was really nice. Really it doesn’t take much people just smile.

My hotel room in Mumbai

Okay back to this hotel, which was really awesome. It was so fancy I can’t believe I was staying there all by myself. Then of course compared to the Rosedale in Hong Kong (which is pretty dang swanky) this place was pretty fancy. The room though…it was hands down the nicest room I have ever been in. In Hong Kong, I could sit against the seat in the window and comfortably rest my feet on the bed. Mumbai, I could have done a workout with 10 other people in that room and we would have been good (maybe not 10, but still lots of room).

My stellar bathroom

Before my flight the next morning I had another opportunity to meet some old friends that we had met when we lived in Edmonton. I was afraid the conversation would be quiet after spending so much time away from each other but it was truly wonderful to catch up with them. I don’t recall much of the trip back to the Mumbai airport, though I did get lost it was relatively uneventful and less traumatising than the night before. The only thing left to endure was the long line up through customs in the Dubai airport.

: Hong Kong through the Rosedale window 15 floors up.

: Dinner out.

: Select your order number.

: Busy street

: James photobomb

: Double decker buses

: The entrance to the mall…no doors 😉

: Apple isn’t open yet.

: Bamboo scaffolding

: So you know where to look (they drive on the wrong side here).

: Painted stairs on an overpass.

: Restaurant menu

: Hong Kong Dollars

: Old apartment building across from the Apple Genius counter.

: Avenue of Stars

: Avenue of Stars

: Bruce Lee

: There was a huge line for Jackie Chan…

: Chow Yun Fat

: I couldn’t convince him to strike a pose.

: Fake, picturesque Hong Kong skyline.

: Real Hong Kong skyline

: High five Pig!

: Olympic torch

: Famous clock tower

: Waiting for the lightshow.

: WOW! That’s it folks. So glad we stuck around… 😛

: Riding back to Central Hong Kong on a passenger ferry

: We were watching the light show from a platform in front of the ‘ski slope’ looking building (Hong Kong Performing Arts)

: Welcome to Victoria Park

: Hong Kong library

: Map of Victoria Park

: Foot massage pathway

: Cool trails around Victoria Park

: Remote control speed boat.

: Running path

: Hong Kong Library from Victoria Park

: Statue of Queen Victoria

: Riding the ‘DingDing’ with Lena

: At Lena’s studio.

: The Tram ‘DingDing’

: Hong Kong Temple

: Hong Kong Temple

: ‘Stop’ wait behind this line.

: Riding the subway in Hong Kong. He makes the best faces.

: Yummy lunch. I loved this place!

: The floor in the Crystal Pod

: The trail James ran.

: Village of Ngong Ping

: Altar at the bottom of the stairs.

: Hello Buddha

: More altars

: Hoped to make it around to the fishing village…but didn’t.

: Bodhi Wishing Shrine

: Random back alley market

: Tickets to The Peak

: How do I get to The Peak?

: Waiting for the Trolley

: On the Trolley to The Peak

: It’s a bit of a steep climb.

: View of Hong Kong from the look out point

: Our names at The Peak.

: Bubba Gump restaurant at The Peak

: Sorry Kirsten…pork ribs.

: View of the ocean from The Peak

: The Peak

: Getting out of the rain

: Hot date with my hubby. Tickets to Elysium

: Pretty much sums up our visit.

: Awesome swinging gate??

: Path leading up to Ngong Ping

: Ngong Ping map

: Awesomely steep stairs.

: Two trails with the same name your only choice, up or down?

: …you pick.

: To get to the hiking trail up Ngong Ping get off at this stop.

: Head left towards this exit.

: Stay to the left of the trees.

: Enter the bike path.

: This way to the walking trail up Ngong Ping.

: Follow the arrows.

: Follow the arrow.

: Follow the signs to the Hau Wong Temple.

: Stay left and go over the overpass.

: Somebodies laundry hanging next to the road.

: Stay right to the right of these stairs.

: At this sign…

: …head down the stairs.

: At the ‘T’, go left.

: Look for the Hau Wong Temple sign (go to the right).

: Past the toilets and a playground (on the left)

: Before the gate, turn left.

: So you walk along this court.

: Over the bridge.

: Stay on the path.

: Up these stairs…

: …until you see this marker, then keep on going 🙂

: Last look before getting on the plane.

: My hotel room in Mumbai

: My stellar bathroom

: View out my window.

The Rest of the Story

29 Wednesday Jan 2014

Posted by lcmacdonald in Oman, Traveling, UAE

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Tags

Beach, Camel, desert, Masirah, mountain view, Oman, Salalah, Shannah, Surf

It’s been 5 months and I finally feel like I can talk about the first few days of our trip to Salalah with our Australian travel mates. To recall our last day near Salalah see this post. I also feel the need to apologise for the long winded nature of this post…but it’s in my genes so suck it up or just look at the pictures.

Where are they? Jaron peaks at the window while we wait for our travel buddies on the side of the road.

Our trip started on Saturday, August 10. When we finally rolled off the University grounds at 6:00 am the temperature gauge read 33C. The day involved a lot of driving and a lot of stopping. The Ozzy’s suspected car trouble and Jacob’s feeding schedule left us wondering on more than one occasion where the Land Cruiser disappeared too. 4 hours into the trip and my new nickname for Joe was “The Magician”. We arrived at Shannah Harbor at 6:00 pm, the temp was 27C and we had made it just in time to catch one of the last few ferries across the bay to Masirah. I don’t recall the cost of the ferry but I feel like it was very reasonable. Basically you just drive up to the boat and wait for someone to wave you to backup onto the ramp. PS, there are toilets available for your use, BYOTP (bring your own toilet paper). BYOTP should actually just be a rule traveling anywhere in the UAE or Oman, keep it in your car always.

Shannah Harbor Ferries

We arrived on the island at 8:00 pm under cover of night. The voyage had been rough and windy and we were all tired and hungry. The only lights to be seen were within the tiny town, so we drove beyond the lights before beginning our search for a place to rest our weary heads. 9:30 pm we finally decided that we couldn’t possibly drive any further. We turned off on a dirt road, crabs ran across our trail through the headlights as we looked off into darkness not being able to see 10 feet in front of us. Tired we decided to stop. The wind was still blowing wildly, but without more light, or more energy we were not going to find any shelter from it that night. James and I tore the gear from the CR-V and attempted to set up the tent. It was nearly impossible and every gust flattened the tent and filled it with sand. It was then that we decided that the kids would sleep in the car. We piled the buckets of gear into the tent to stabilise it and keep it erect while we attempted to tie the guy lines to the car for security. The wind blowing the way it was there was no way to make a fire, or even keep a stove lit. So we went to bed without dinner that night. Flashes of lightening accompanied the wind and kept us up most of the night. Unable to keep the fly tied down against the wind, sand filtered into our tent covering everything.

Sand on the mattress when I lifted up my sleeping bag.

The next morning we woke early (did I even sleep) to a layer of sand over everything. It was in my hair, my teeth, my sleeping bag, my bra. I couldn’t have had more sand on me even if I rolled in it. We set off exploring right away, as it turns out we practically set up camp in somebodies back yard or goat herding path anyhow. We pulled over at several different coves and beaches to play in the waves and look for interesting sea life and sea shells. The men would even attempt to ask for directions from some local fisher ‘boys’ and some anxious surfers to help us find a better camp spot and safe beach for the kids to play.

Looking for treasures

‘where is a good beach for kids?’

Looks like snow.

One beach we stopped at the kids were in the water before I could get the sunblock on them, and they paid dearly for it (sorry guys). We picked our camping spot while we still had more than enough light, even giving ourselves time to collect firewood and get properly set up. Dinner that evening was generously prepared by our comrades while dessert was a bit of a disappointment.

Beach camp

My wonderful, pinterest “over a fire apple crisp” recipe didn’t work out so well.

Early morning again, and this time we were off in search for some sunburn relief before getting on the ferry back to the mainland. It was 11:00 am before we were on land and on our way to Salalah. Gas stations pepper the road every 50 km or there a bouts, so there is no need to worry about running out of gas in the middle of the desert (unless you neglect to stop at any of them). We stopped in Haima, temp. 44C, next to the gas station for dinner at a traditional Arabic restaurant where there were 3 items to choose from on the menu, Combo #1: chicken & rice, Combo #2: mutton & rice, Combo #3: fish & rice, utensils optional. A few minutes down the road and we were met by a police checkpoint. There were plenty of these along that way, a comforting reassurance to those who don’t make the long drive because of the fear of pirates. As if began to get dark we decided we would look for camp the moment the temperature dropped below 27C. The temperature didn’t even begin to get close to that mark until 10:30 pm when we reached a tourism/ police checkpoint in dense fog. They were checking drivers licenses and registration like every checkpoint before, but also instructing drivers to clean the protective paint off their vehicles. Around here when one does a lot of dune-bashing with a personal vehicle they tend to protect the paint by using a protective spray on coating. This spray on coating comes in many different colors and washes off ‘easily’ under soap and water. It is applied by hand usually and doesn’t tend to look very nice. In fact it can make your car look dirty, or like it was just plain vandalised. In Salalah, it is illegal to drive ‘dirty’ vehicles and can result in some very hefty fines. The temperature here was still warm, about 32C, we would still need to continue on to find someplace to camp. An hour later we arrived at the Frakensense Park (yes, like one of the gifts given to Jesus kind of Frakensense). The temp here was a perfect 24C, however it was likely a lot cooler than that if you factored in the blustering cool wind that rocked our car and threatened to blow us into the gulley. Tired we looked around the area briefly to see if there was some sheltered area we could set up our tents out of the wind. Alas, there was not. So back into the car we piled. As we drove into Salalah resolved to find a hotel we quickly learned that idea may not be possible as we came to a stop in a 5 km traffic jam, it was 1:00am. During Monsoon season (about May – September) this area becomes overpopulated with visitors from all over the place. Saudi’s, Yemenese, Omanis, Emirates, and Expatriates flood to this green oasis from out of the desert to party all day and apparently all night. 2:30, that was the time that James woke me up to crawl from the car into the tent.

“What is that guy doing up in the tree?”

The next morning we discovered that the men had managed to get us to the quiet end of a public beach. We took things slow, exploring the beach, playing in the waves, climbing coconut palms…. James managed to climb the palm to the top and drop several coconuts for us to try to open. Just before lunch we were packed up and back on the road. We had intended to go view the blowholes, but not realising how popular an attraction it is, decided against it upon seeing the packed parking lot, winding line of people and 2 dozen tents on the beach next to it. We carried on instead up the mountain to explore. The sites are truly beautiful so don’t be in too much of a rush not to stop and take it in every once in awhile. There are also many camel farms in the area, and could literally run into herds of 20 -200 on or alongside the road. We followed the signs down off the mountain top to a small village called Rakhuyt. Rakhoot Street circles the little town, and there appears to be a road that goes off around the mountain side. Our Australian companions may have been able to navigate the rocky, and sandy terrain but our CR-V lacked the required clearance and power to get much further than a couple hundred meters. We turned back and decided to head through the gate towards the beach. Out of curiosity we followed the unpaved road to its end (stay to the right) and came upon a plateau overlooking the ocean, perfect for a camp. We parked at about 3:00 and took the trail to the beach to explore. Tiny hermit grabs and snails peppered the shoreline as the waves washed them in and then pulled them out again.

Chasing the kids up the beach.

The large boulders formed caves that the kids enjoyed playing in. James found a trail leading up through the rocks but we didn’t ever find the time to explore it more thoroughly. If we do make it back here, I’m sure that will be the first thing on his list to do. James was eager to run back along the switchback road we had just descended while camp was being set up so for an hour we sat around, enjoyed the view, and watched the kids playing in the cold ocean waves. The past late nights, made for an early bedtime that evening, and we were soon all tucked away into bed.

Happy Birthday to me! Lightening again in the night had made for light sleep. I woke up early to see the sunrise and also was startled to see a herd of cows and a small group of camels walked down the beach towards us.

Stand off.

They stopped abruptly about 200 meters and turned back the way they came. Lilli emerged from her tent than her and I run up and down the beach trying to chase the hermit crabs as they were washed ashore and getting video of the snails as they burrowed into the sand to escape us. After camp was collapsed and we were set to go we decided to collaborate and decide on our destination for the day. We were in agreement to continue down the road towards Yemen to Dalkoot to check out the fishing village that would likely be the point of departure to reach some scriptural locations we wanted to investigate. However, because of the choppy waters the marina parking lot was packed with parked parked boats instead of cars.

No fishing today. Boats pulled up on shore in Dalkut.

No one would be going anywhere on a boat. Rain kept us from spending a lengthy amount of time exploring and we were soon on our way. As it was my birthday I voted to go see the waterfall, but it was in the opposite direction and would add time to our trip. Instead we decided to find Wadi Uyun on our way back out of Salalah towards the highway home. Even here the signs using English alphabet are phonetically spelt and not always the same on every map. We missed the turn off and drove into the village of Uyun instead of heading to the Wadi.

Here this camel shows us the way. Not at all spelt the same as on the map.

Some directions from the locals got us headed back in the right direction and we found it without difficulty. Rain threatened us and lead to a rushed setup of tents and tarps. That evening we enjoyed dinner, birthday cake, and some really deep political and religious conversation. The trip to this point had been absolutely wonderful.

The next day was the day James wrote about 5 months ago. The day in which they are both still recovering from the traumatic series of events. I can’t even bring myself to write or think about this day as it only leads me to think of how much worse it could have been. After the attack we drove back to Haima and stayed at the Arabian Oryx hotel.

YAY for hotels with big beds and hot showers.

It was nice, clean, decently priced and had hot running water 🙂 We returned to a similar restaurant as the one we ate at our first time through to discover they had an additional item to their menu, Camel & rice! This time we ate on the floor on a woven carpet with a plastic sheet under our platters of food. No utensils were offered so we did our best to rolled the rice into balls to better eat it.

Yemenese dinner.

I can’t say that James and I were very successful but the kids were naturals.

The next day we were looking forward to an uneventful drive home, but were surprised by a flat tire 45 min into our drive. Between towns and gas stations there is not a whole lot to look at. There is nothing but a 2 lane road with broad paved shoulders (so more like a 4 lane road for the locals that drive it). This knowledge was a bit unnerving as we pulled off on the shoulder to change our tire.

That looks flat.

Getting the jack in place

Just a little nerve racking being pulled over on this road.

I would have to say, being on the side of the road at 7:00 am in a cultural setting where the rest of the population isn’t getting up until 10:00 am worked in our favour that morning. There weren’t many cars on the road that morning, and on top of it, the temperature was bearable for spending time standing on the blacktop of the pavement. Once the tire was on the kids decided they needed to pee….

Toilet break.

Did I mention there is nothing but pavement to look at? So out came our handy dandy portable changing room and a shovel and business was taken care of. By 1:30 we were across the border and in Al Ain. We took our traditional stop at Bawaldi Shopping Center food court for lunch/dinner, enjoyed Fun City courtesy of our Australian friends and then we were back on the road to home.

Enjoy these and other photos from our trip to Salalah. Can’t wait to go back again.