Days of rest are many here in the UAE. June 6th is as of now (May 20th of this year) a national holiday here in the UAE called Al Isra’a Wal Miraj in Arabic, الإسراء والمعراج. It is taught in the Quran to be the day that the Prophet Muhammed traveled to Jerusalem from Mecca in one night and ascended to heaven to speak with God. So with yet another holiday suddenly upon us we quickly packed our camping gear together and headed for the mountains of Oman for our last possible chance to sleep comfortably under the stars.
Following the coastline.
We departed University City around 3:00pm, and arrived at the border crossing by about 4:30pm. No trouble there and we were on the road. The road past the border winds closely along the coast with the Arabian Gulf stretching out on one side, and steep mountain cliffs on the other. With no clear road signs (or signs with familiar names) we missed the turn off to the Sayh Plateau and stopped instead at the Acacia Forest.
Acacia Forest near Sall Ala
At 7:30, it was still +43C so we decided to pass up the temptation to set up camp here and head to the mountains where the temperature would likely drop to a more tolerable level. We drove back along the road to a small village that was located where we had expected the turnoff to be. Our trusty arab speaking ‘cousin’ made quick work of getting us on the right path after flagging over some local men and asking for directions.
Sunset approach up Wadi Khasab
The road up the mountain was unpaved, and steep but not nearly as soft and sandy as the mountain road we attempted the last time we were in Oman. The view was beautiful as we watched the sun disappear behind the mountains…I wish I could better portray in photographs the beauty we witnessed. It took approximately 25-30 minutes to reach the camping site confirmed to us only by the presence of other tents visible in our headlights. We searched among the rubble of an old settlement to find relatively flat ground free of rocks for pitching our tents. James and Jeremy set to building a fire from the dead branch of a near by Acacia tree, while us ladies set out to assemble our shelters. Dinner was quick and conversations short as we were all off to slumberland by 10:30.
My kids were focused on their devices most of the drive out, missing all the beautiful scenery, and when night fell that did not change. They quickly ate their dinner and hurried off to watch movies and play games on the iPad in their tent. Jaron must have been watching an action movie, as the sound of rattling guns and people yelling kept me awake late into the night.
I couldn’t have been happier with our chosen camping spot (unless I had gotten more sleep) when morning came and I had a perfect view of the sun rising up over Jebel as Sayh at 5:30 in the morning. I quickly dressed and emerged from my tent to go about taking care of the morning business. A few shots of the campsite in daylight, and then a trek up the trail to take in the view.
View of camp and Jabal as Sayh from the hiking path.
The temperature was perfect, and the hike was a little treacherous to be climbing in my flip-flops. I was soon joined by our two little “cousins” Miriam and Megd, and we explored the area for cool rocks while we waited for their Mom to join us. As we saw tents collapse we headed back down the mountain for a quick breakfast. We were off by 8:00am, back down the mountainside to find our way to Khawr an Najd.
Mountain path to Khawr an Najd
Khawr an Najd is the only beach bay accessible in the fjords by car. To get there you must drive up a road cut into the side of the mountain, much like what we drove up Wadi Khasab to the camp site on Jebel as Sayh. The view was spectacular, and the beach…less impressive. The amount of garbage on the beach and floating in the water was enough to convince us to start home and find a suitable beach along the coast.
Just past Khasab we pulled into a large gravel/sand lot next to a bluff named Bassa Beach. By this time the outside temperature was back to +40, and the water was just cool enough to give relief. We had pulled up on the beach near a group of young teenage boys who were jumping off the bluff into the ocean.
James and Jeremy jumped off the cliff with some Omani boys.
No surprise then when James and Jeremy disappeared to investigate did we see them a top the bluff with this group of boys. One by one they flung themselves from the top. Bridget guessed it was at least 40 feet to the water. James claimed a ‘lost’ t-shirt he found lying on a rock near the bottom of the bluff, and both received injuries from grazing the sharp rocks on their way back to beach. The younger kids were quite happy to just look for shells on the ocean floor in the clear blue water. 2 hours here and then we were ready to move on.
Crossing the border on the way back was as quick as one could expect, though the lineup for those traveling into Oman must have been quite a wait. We made a good decision traveling the day before the holiday instead of on the holiday instead.
Enjoy some more photos from the trip. I apologize for them seeming out of order. The photos are from multiple cameras…
Well we are on to the last leg of this adventure. Our friends, it turns out, also wrote about the trip: the Andersons and the Palmers. I found it interesting to read about the same trip from another’s perspective. A big thank you to both the Palmers and the Andersons for such a wonderful time.
On the last day we planned to visit Wadi Damm and the Beehive Tombs. The Andersons decided to get home early so headed straight out after our stay on the mountain. We couldn’t blame them, Matt had to work the next day. I hate pulling in late after a vacation and having to get up and go to work the next day. It simply does not leave any time to relax. So it was just us and the Palmers. We realized after Wadi Damm that none of us had the energy to visit the Beehive Tombs. These tombs are a UNESCO World Heritage site and probably would have been fascinating. It gives us a great excuse to go back to Oman though.
Wadi Damm was a fantastic adventure. I will pause here for a moment to share something I’ve avoided talking about, garbage. It is likely that garbage, litter, waste, refuse and their cousins are a Middle Eastern treasure and protected by some unknown cultural law. Everywhere you look there is trash. It wasn’t uncommon to head out into the woods in Canada and find a party site where thoughtless folks abandoned their beer cans and other waste. There are selfish jerks everywhere. Here though trash is a part of every landscape and scene. It surprises me how little of it shows up in the pictures we take.
The trailhead at Wadi Damm was covered in trash. Wadi Shab was no different. Wandering through the village on Jebel Akhdar I was shocked at the trash lying about. Thankfully, with the Wadi’s the further you hiked back and the farther you got from the beaten track the less trash there was. It seems the litter bugs are also too lazy to go too far beyond the comforts of the trail head. It makes me a little sad to see it all and I suppose I will never get used to it. I’ve thought a few times about buying gloves and garbage collecting sticks and making my kids pick garbage around AUS when we take the dogs for a walk. Enough about the garbage.
Wadi Damm was pretty fantastic once you got away from the first pools and the trash lining the first part of the trail. Set in an enormous canyon the Wadi wound its way back in the shadows of monstrous rock walls. The trail crisscrossed back and forth across the sometimes dry “river” bed. The water from the Wadi springs fully formed from the rock and is worth the rugged walk to get to.
There is a dam at Wadi Damm, go figure. I’m not sure if the locals use the reservoir for irrigation or some other purpose but the reservoir was dry when we crossed the small dam a few hundred meters from the start of the trail.
When we reached the first pools we were shocked at the cool or cooler temperatures of the the water. Wadi Shab felt like a warm bath. The water here had a bite to it. I wish I had a thermometer to take the temperature of the water. It probably wasn’t as cool as it felt. Once you were in the water you could stay as long as you wanted. There were fish in the pools too. it was surreal to swim through the schools of fish. The fish ranged in size from little minnows to 6-8 inches long. They were grey and silver and reminded me of trout. I wonder how they got there – I suspect it is stocked.
A few times along the trail we had to pass either over or under massive boulders. You can imagine that Jaron was in seventh heaven. When I got looking back at pictures of the trip though I had to laugh. There is a picture of Jaron crossing over a rather large boulder at Wadi Shab that he could easily have gone around. Then the Palmers caught a picture of me climbing over a much larger boulder at Wadi Dam that I could have easily gone around – but jumping from that rock to the pool below was just too tempting for me. I guess like father like son.
Jaron going over a rock at Wadi Shab
James going over the rock at Wadi Dam
I think we had nearly as much fun scrambling through the rocks as we did jumping into and swimming about the beautiful pools. I should point out that before I jumped off that gargantuan rock featured above I went for a swim in the pool below to test its depth. The water is quite clear in many of the pools. You can see right to the bottom but often it looks deeper than it actually is. This pool was plenty deep.
The final pool at the end of the hike features a small waterfall. Water courses over a moss and shrub covered rock and rains down a few feet into the blue green pool below. You can swim beneath the ledge of rock among the silver fish and enjoy the beauty of the scene around you. Where the water comes out of the rock to feed the wadi is a sole palm tree and long green grasses. Both Wadi Shab and this Wadi reserved their most beautiful scenery and exciting features until the end. There is a great life analogy there that brings me to moments of grateful reflection. I can’t help but believe that God has created these remarkable places for his children. This is muslim land; how deeply He must love them.
Determination
As we neared the last pools we came across a good size tree growing from a thin crack in an otherwise seamless rock. It made me think of one of those motivational pictures. The word determination came to mind and I asked Lisa to try and capture it with her camera. She took a few shots but with just her little point and shoot she was sad that she couldn’t capture the beauty of that tree amongst the rocks. I was sad too. I’d have liked to put it on my wall.
A picture may be worth a thousand words but it is a pale reproduction of reality. This trip to Oman was beautiful not just for the sights and sounds but for the time spent with my family and our new friends. I hope by writing about it I can revisit the memory decades from now and be grateful for my time with them.
The last post concluded with our first morning in Oman. Friday in the Middle East is the sabbath and so off we went to find the little branch of the church that meets in Muscat. It was about a 2 hour drive from our campsite on the beach outside of Tiwi. The branch meets in a villa just like it does in Sharjah and practically everywhere else in this part of the world. The first meeting house in the Middle East is actually nearly complete. It is in Abu Dahbi. I haven’t been by there yet though I’ve seen pictures of the building under construction.
The branch in Muscat is very small. It turned out we were not the only visitors to the branch that Friday though. There were folks from Kuwait and Saudi Arabia as well as the 15 of us from the UAE. We more than doubled the numbers. After services we had the pleasure of visiting with everyone at a great potluck. With the branch president’s permission we planned to stay in the branch’s villa overnight. A couple other families stay on Friday nights too. One family drives over two hours to meet there each week and can thankfully stay at the villa overnight before making the trip back.
Just before dusk we all drove into Muscat to explore the corniche (a corniche is a road cut into a cliff side along a coast) and wander through the famous souk (a souk is an arab market place or bazaar) there. Since it was the sabbath many of the shops were closed but we weren’t there for the shopping anyway. I am not a fan of souks; burning incense everywhere and sweaty people bustling through tight spaces while vendors shout and stuff merchandise into your face is not my idea of fun.
There were thousands of people along the corniche and in the souk. Strangely there were very few women around. I assume it was so crowded because of Eid weekend but I have yet to puzzle out the lack of women on the street. I was a little taken back though by all the men holding hands (interlocking fingers) and then cuddling up to one another with arms around shoulders as they sat along the sea wall. Strange I thought that a country with laws against “public displays of affection” would certainly not tolerate such displays between two people of the same sex. The Palmers had a great laugh at my expense later when I brought it up. It turns out this is normal heterosexual behaviour here in the Middle East. I was wondering when I might experience a little culture shock. Well there it is; I’m shocked.
Overlooking the corniche was an ancient looking brick fort complete with guns and flags. There was a long abandoned staircase carved into the cliff wall that appeared to take you up the cliff to the fort. So we ducked under the fences and scrambled up a short rock face to make the staircase. There were several other people doing the same so it seemed safe enough. The stairs were littered with broken rock and climbed steeply up in a serpentine route to the base of the fort. We had quite the view from up there and Lisa managed a couple excellent photos.
I would be lying if I didn’t say that my heart was not in my throat a few times with the kids up there. Jaron simply has no sense of fear whatsoever. Needless to say we didn’t stay long on those stairs.
A panoramic view of the corniche in Muscat. Taken from the base of the brick fort that overlooks it.
That night we took over the home of some local members of the church for dinner. They were very kind to let us use their kitchen to whip up a big pot of stew. It was great to meet them. Hopefully we’ll have a chance to visit again and perhaps we could entertain them if they ever come up to the UAE. We headed back to the church for our overnight stay despite our new friends insistence that we could stay with them. I just didn’t feel right cramming our 9 kids into their home. Jaron was pretty eager to get back to the church too as he’d made a couple little friends who were staying the night there as well. They had built a fort in the primary room and he had high hopes of finishing his laser gun battle with them.
The next morning we left the church villa bright and early (okay it was about 9am) and headed up to the mountains – Jebel Akhdar in the Al Hajar Mountain Range. As we drove through a couple small villages to get there I was grateful to pass a garbage truck as they picked up the last of the remains of slaughtered goats from Eid celebrations the night before. There were only rust coloured blood stains along the roadways to mark their recent removal. While I did explain to the kids the sacrifice portion of Eid celebrations I was glad they, nor I, did not have to see it.
There is a guarded checkpoint at the bottom of the mountain road. The climb is steep enough that only “4x4s” are allowed up the mountain. In the little all-wheel-drive Honda CRV we had there were many places where I had to put the vehicle in first in order to make the climb. Up we went and there were spectacular views in all directions, that is of course when you could see over the massive concrete barriers lining the roadway.
The further we went up the further the mercury plummeted. By the time we made the top the temperature was in the low twenties. I could hardly believe it when I stepped out of the vehicle to a cool mountain breeze. We drove for a while with the windows down until the wind got annoying.
Unfortunately the camping spot the Palmers used the last time they were there had been taken over by the national defence. A sealed gate now stood where once there was an open road. Jeremy spoke with some locals and they directed us to a suitable camping spot. We camped in a small mountain valley. Tall Junipers (excellent climbing trees) dotted the dusty landscape. Wild donkeys roamed the area too. The first place we chose to setup camp was occupied by one of those donkeys, its carcass anyway. So we couldn’t spare the children from dead animals completely. We found another spot much better than the first just down the road a ways.
Once camp was setup it was time for a bit of a hike. This hike takes you through a little mountain village where people still live what appears like an idyllic life. The village is beautiful with its terraced gardens of fruit trees and vegetables. The short 40 minute hike took us up and down the terraced gardens, passed a beautiful mountain pool and through the narrow passages between the adobe and wood beamed buildings. Walking the trail you feel as though you have stepped back in time. I imagined aloud with the kids what it might be like to live there. As passages darted off to the left and right and we crossed through roofed tunnels we mused at what it might be like to play hide and seek in the dark here with little light pouring through the occasional windows along the paths.
There was a staircase etched out of the rock that would take a brave explorer around the edge of a pinnacle to some unseen destination. I imagine that grown men have soiled themselves climbing that staircase. As I have only small shreds of dignity I didn’t take the risk of losing it by venturing up those stairs. I couldn’t help but wonder though at the immense intestinal fortitude it must have taken for the villagers to build that staircase let alone traverse it. Unfortunately it doesn’t appear that Lisa caught that particular staircase with her camera.
At the end of the hike the locals invited us over to see their giant underground oven where they were preparing to roast a variety of meats overnight. The pit was sweltering hot and the men were all preparing to toss the meat wrapped in green (some herb I suppose) woven baskets into the furnace. They would then cover it over and let it cook for 24 hours. Sadly we wouldn’t be around for the feast. Though as we walked away clearly someone had not wrapped a basket tight enough as goat parts lay all over the road. Hey dad is this the severed ear of a goat? By then the kids were okay with the gore… we’d passed the severed head of a cow a little further back on the trail.
That night as we sat around the campfire we were all in search of sweaters and blankets. I would guess that the temperature was somewhere between 10 and 15 degrees celsius overnight. The little firewood we did gather burned long though. I managed to snap a thick dead branch from a Juniper and it burned for hours. Lisa prepared the best hotdog feast for our evening meal. Giant beef hotdogs with cheddar cheese slid into a slice down the centre which was then wrapped in bacon and then in tinfoil. We froze them before we left and kept them in the cooler. They turned out marvellously.
Kirsten was a little disappointed by the lack of a swimming hole on this third day of camping. She followed that up with a cold uncomfortable night on the mountain. The other kids seemed just fine. Kirsten seems to have taken to the hot weather quite quickly to the point where she complains it is too cool at 25 degrees. She may have difficulty adjusting back to Canadian temperatures in the future. It was a beautiful starry night though and we made up for the desert camping the next day with our trip to Wadi Damm. I’ll leave that to the next post though.
It has been a few days since we’ve posted. This is because we’ve been camping in Oman. Oman is the eastern most country on the Arabian Peninsula. With borrowed tents, sleeping bags and even a borrowed car we set out with two other families this Eid weekend. A special thanks to our friends the Palmers who led our way and planned such a great trip. The weekend (Thursday Oct, 25 – Sunday Oct, 28) was packed with so much fun and adventure I hardly know where to begin. So, I will begin at the beginning and anticipate that it may take several posts to get the whole story out. This story includes swimming in warm desert oases, views of the sun breaching the horizon over the Gulf of Oman, exploring the Oman capital of Muscat, a trek across the terraced mountain village of Jebel Akhdar, finding cool temperatures in the mountains and navigating the border crossings and roadways of Oman.
This adventure, like so many others of late, begins with our dogs. After some investigation it became clear that we should not attempt to take our dogs into Oman. This necessitated finding a kennel that would take the dogs for the weekend. Lisa found the kennel and they sent her directions to its location in Al Zubair. The directions sent us up highway 311 from Sharjah toward Ajman. This highway can be heavily trafficked so when we headed out after work on Wednesday we thought it may be better to take the bypass road, highway 611. We had seen a sign to Al Zubair on the 611 the day before. Armed with a hand drawn map we took the 611 route rather than the route provided.
It turns out that just because you can get to the general location of a town you are not guaranteed to find the exact location especially when the directions include turning left at the orange fence and traversing several alleyways. So after driving up and down the roads of Al Zubair, avoiding the camel being herded by a man in a small SUV we thought to call the kennel for further directions, we had to be close. Unfortunately, we had run out of pay as you go minutes on the cell phone. We could receive calls and texts we just could not send any. The kennel kept texting us, “are you on the way,” “when will you arrive.” We had no way of getting back to them. It turns out that Al Zubair is really just a subdivision. There was no gas stations or stores from which we could recharge the phone. So we had no choice but to turn around and go back the way we came to follow the original route we were sent.
That original route included the traffic of highway 311 in rush hour. As we feared we found ourselves proceeding slowly toward our destination. Thankfully we eventually found ourselves turning at the orange fence down dirt alleyways. We pulled up to the locked gates of the kennel at dusk and hollered to the young man crossing the yard. He approached the gate but could not understand my English or my poor attempts at charades. He refused us entry. If only we could call the kennel office they would direct the young man to open the gates. We turned around again and headed back to the highway. I pulled over at the first gas station. Purchasing some minutes for the cell phone we could now call the kennel and let them know our plight.
I’d like to say that I handled this frustrating situation with grace and patience. Lisa and I simply smiled and joked with each other about how silly this comedy of errors really was. I would like to say that. When I came out of the gas station an Emirati man parked next to us in a shiny black SUV offered to purchase the dogs from me. He could see their cute little faces pressed against the glass. I could see Lisa’s beautiful face beyond them and swallowing refused to sell the little creatures.
Now you must know that once you get going in one direction on a highway in the UAE you may find that to go the opposite direction is nearly impossible. The gas station was on the south side of the highway and I needed to go back to the north. Try as I might that seemed nearly impossible. We ended up driving into Ajman and caught in heavy traffic. It seemed to take forever but miraculously we eventually found ourselves on the highway headed north and turning once again at the orange fence. This time the gate was open to us. Our 20 minute run to the kennel to drop off the dogs had turned into a several hour odyssey. The kennel operators seems friendly and knowledgable and the facilities passable. We abandoned the dogs to their care and made our way home. I still had to pick up the car we’d be taking to Oman (a Honda CRV) and prepare for a 5am departure the next morning. The friendly staff at the kennel directed us home… down the 611 to bypass the traffic.
At 5am on Thursday morning we with all our gear were loaded into the car and leaving the university. I was grateful for the Palmers in their little blue Forerunner (aptly named I think) directly ahead of me guiding the way to the Oman border. Within a couple hours we were passing through armed border crossings. Not just one border crossing but several. The last crossing required us to park the vehicle and head into a large building with everyone. It took over an hour to make our way through the lines to the guard who silently processed our Visas and collected the Visa fee of 50 dirham per visitor. Had I known better we would have changed some dirham to Omani Rial at the border. The first time we would need gas in Oman had me borrowing 5 rial from our friends the Andersons.
There were three families on this trip. Us with our 3 kids, the Palmers with their two daughters and the Andersons with their four kids. The Anderons’ children being the youngest of the group. 9 children and six adults exploring a foreign land seems a little crazy to me on reflection but it all went rather well. Our intrepid leader Jeremy Palmer, as I’ve mentioned in the past, is a linguist and fluent in Arabic; a skill that was beyond helpful. Many times I envied his ability to speak with the locals. I can understand the occasional word with my few arabic classes behind me but I am far from being able to communicate anything beyond my ignorance. Perhaps a day will come when I will understand the language well enough to hold a conversation; Inshallah (God willing).
After the border we drove along the Gulf of Oman south through the capital Muscat and on to the little village of Tiwi. Our destination was the Wadi Shab. Driving through Tiwi was a treat. We scooted our little SUVs through the narrow village streets waiting for the goats to cross and watching the locals dressed for Eid preparing for the holiday. The ocean to our left would appear between the plastered buildings that looked as old as the landscape. We parked beneath the highway where it crossed over the waters of the wadi as they merged with the green-blue waters of the Gulf.
You could hire a small motorboat to carry you across the water to the trail head but the water was only waist deep and we were on our way to get wet. I wondered at what the locals charged for a boat crossing but didn’t bother to investigate as the waters of the Wadi were calling my name. The trail meandered through the deep walls of a canyon and appeared and disappeared among the broken rock and boulders on the canyon floor. Palm trees grow along the banks of the Wadi and the occasional tree clings to life along the walls. Jaron was nearly uncontrollable with his delight. He first lost a sandal in a mud hole beneath about 2 feet of water. Lisa took the time to search the mud thoroughly and eventually produced the sandal. Every hole in the rock side was a treasure cave and every new bug, lizard and fish a wonderful treat to Jaron. He could have spent the entire day at the trail head never knowing the majesty of what lie at the end. To him the beginning was as grand as anything the end could possibly offer.
The trail was challenging for the little legs of the children but they traversed it with hardly any complaints. Jaron would accept no ones help and would much rather go over any rock than around it. He picked the most difficult path he could find and relished the challenge. A trait that seems clearly genetic. The hike in all took about 45 minutes. The first substantial pool that we came to was once used as the site of a Red Bull cliff diving competition. I had a great time climbing and jumping from the cliffs. This you tube video of the Red Bull diving will give you an idea of the immensity of the canyon and the beauty of the water.
Of course, I only climbed and dove from the cliffs at the bottom of the dives you see in the video. That was plenty high and plenty challenging for me. I did have a great fan club though. A chorus of “Dad, dad ,dad – jump…” as I prepared each leap.
This was just the first swimming hole though. On we went and how glad I am that we took the time. I had seen the cave at the end on youtube so I knew something of what awaited us but there is nothing to compare to actually being there. We reached what appeared to be as far as we would be able to take the kids and took a break for lunch. I went ahead with the Palmers. All the kids and 3 of the adults remained behind. We scrambled and swam to the end of the Wadi. You must swim the last 100 yards or so before it comes to what appears to be the end. There is, however, a crack in the canyon wall. By the time we arrived the canyon was in shade and the crack which passed through the canyon wall was dark. About 1 and a half to 2 feet of cave extended above the blue water of the Wadi. Swimming about 20 feet through the wall you emerge into a stunning open cave filled with clear water. A waterfall pours into the cave with a rope extending down its face. Using the rope you can climb the water fall and jump into the warm waters below. The roof of the cave is open in various places to allow for light to reflect off the walls and illuminate its interior. I cannot imagine that anyone could tread water in that cave and not be overcome with gratitude for life. I absolutely had to share this with my family.
After a few moments in the cave and a quick dive from the waterfall I raced back to where I had left my family. I swam hard and ran over the rocky banks. I passed several people who must have believed I had seen a lion in the caves. I was doubly glad for the small life jacket I had bought Jaron just a couple days before else he would not have been able to join us. Lilli did need the canyon wall a few times but she did marvellously as I led them back through the canyon and the crack in the canyon wall. This youtube video should give you some perspective of the beauty of the scene:
We played there for some time but not too long as I wanted to be sure we made it out of the canyon before dark. As it turned out we did make it out before dark but barely. We then drove back up the highway a few miles and found a place to pitch our tents on the rocky beach of the Gulf of Oman. In the dark we cooked up a batch of chilli which the kids inevitably found too spicy. We spread out on top of our sleeping bags to the gentle crash of the ocean waves on the rocks just below. In the morning I awoke as the sun rose from the ocean a burnished orange orb. Though the hard ground made for stiff joints I was immensely happy to be sharing this with my family. Jaron and I pulled on white collared shirts and the girls dresses and we set out with our friends to find the small branch of saints that meet each Friday in Muscat. I leave it here for now. I hope to finish the tale in the days to come.
Lisa took so many great pictures. Here is just a sample of the first day. We didn’t have a waterproof camera but the Andersons’ did. They took some pictures of us in the cave. If they turned out I’ll post them here later.
