Yucca triumphant

In the last few weeks the Yucca on the edge of our property has been flowering magnificently. This must be a fairly old plant as it now has several trunks and fills a large section of the narrow strip between our fence and the lane.
It was even larger before we removed a couple of trunks whose leaves were proving a menace to anyone using our footpath down the side of the house.

Yucca triumphant

In the last few weeks the Yucca on the edge of our property has been flowering magnificently. This must be a fairly old plant as it now has several trunks and fills a large section of the narrow strip between our fence and the lane.
It was even larger before we removed a couple of trunks whose leaves were proving a menace to anyone using our footpath down the side of the house.

March march

Not so much a march as a meander, this month's bushwalk took us along a creek that the 26-year-old Charles Darwin followed when he spent time in the Blue Mountains during the voyage of the Beagle. Our leaders had chosen this particular route in honour of the 200th anniversary of Darwin's birth
Little has changed since he made the trek, other than the trail being better groomed and signposted.





We took a break where the creek flowed over a large rock...



...and into sandy pools whose limpid surface reflected the sunny sky.





Eventually, we arrived at the cliff edge where the water dropped abruptly out of sight. At the same spot, Darwin recorded in his notebook: "...suddenly & without any preparation, through the trees which border the pathway, an immense gulf is seen...The class of view was to me quite novel & certainly magnificent."



There is a sturdy fence at this point with the following warning attached to it:



Shortly afterwards, we came to a vantage point where we could see for ourselves the dramatic cascade, tumbling over the "most stupendous cliffs I have ever seen", as Darwin described them.

March march

Not so much a march as a meander, this month's bushwalk took us along a creek that the 26-year-old Charles Darwin followed when he spent time in the Blue Mountains during the voyage of the Beagle. Our leaders had chosen this particular route in honour of the 200th anniversary of Darwin's birth
Little has changed since he made the trek, other than the trail being better groomed and signposted.





We took a break where the creek flowed over a large rock...



...and into sandy pools whose limpid surface reflected the sunny sky.





Eventually, we arrived at the cliff edge where the water dropped abruptly out of sight. At the same spot, Darwin recorded in his notebook: "...suddenly & without any preparation, through the trees which border the pathway, an immense gulf is seen...The class of view was to me quite novel & certainly magnificent."



There is a sturdy fence at this point with the following warning attached to it:



Shortly afterwards, we came to a vantage point where we could see for ourselves the dramatic cascade, tumbling over the "most stupendous cliffs I have ever seen", as Darwin described them.

Ras al Kaimah: Farewell

An easy morning, followed by lunch with Sarah Jane's boss, Kaye, at the Hilton buffet. The buffet was excellent and so was the conversation, ranging over Emirati customs, financial situation, education, etc.

The hotel's clientele were less attractive: Brits and Europeans seeking the sun insulated from life outside the resort, mostly middle-aged, overweight and skimpily dressed, showing a good deal of sagging, sunburnt flesh.

After lunch we walked over to the sailing club that Sarah Jane has joined in order to be able to swim and manoeuver small boats around without the restrictions of the Emirati dress code. By contrast with the five-star Hilton's grand terraces and swimming pool, the sailing club's amenities consist of a couple of shabby buildings, one the boathouse, the other a bar. Outside, on a concrete terrace fronting the modest beach, an assortment of cheery, young to middle-aged expats lounge at chairs and tables under palm-thatched umbrellas. We gathered up the bits to rig one of the club's lasers and spent an hour inexpertly sailing it up and down the calm waters inside the breakwater watched by the gang under the umbrellas. The camera was safely back at the apartment; just as well since we all got rather wet.

We had to be up at 5 am. for the drive to the airport at Dubai, so it was an early night, although there was time first for a cuddle with the kittens whose mum shrewdly adopted Sarah Jane just before giving birth.




In the morning, after an hour's drive to reach the airport, we said goodbye to our favourite daughter, who had to drive back to RAK to teach a class.
It was a crowded, uncomfortable flight as far as Bangkok, but then, mercifully, about half the passengers disembarked. With lots of empty seats, we had a chance to stretch out on the Sydney leg. Nevertheless, we were still tired as we boarded the train back home to Katoomba in what would have been the small hours of the morning back in Ras al Kaimah.

Ras al Kaimah: Farewell

An easy morning, followed by lunch with Sarah Jane's boss, Kaye, at the Hilton buffet. The buffet was excellent and so was the conversation, ranging over Emirati customs, financial situation, education, etc.

The hotel's clientele were less attractive: Brits and Europeans seeking the sun insulated from life outside the resort, mostly middle-aged, overweight and skimpily dressed, showing a good deal of sagging, sunburnt flesh.

After lunch we walked over to the sailing club that Sarah Jane has joined in order to be able to swim and manoeuver small boats around without the restrictions of the Emirati dress code. By contrast with the five-star Hilton's grand terraces and swimming pool, the sailing club's amenities consist of a couple of shabby buildings, one the boathouse, the other a bar. Outside, on a concrete terrace fronting the modest beach, an assortment of cheery, young to middle-aged expats lounge at chairs and tables under palm-thatched umbrellas. We gathered up the bits to rig one of the club's lasers and spent an hour inexpertly sailing it up and down the calm waters inside the breakwater watched by the gang under the umbrellas. The camera was safely back at the apartment; just as well since we all got rather wet.

We had to be up at 5 am. for the drive to the airport at Dubai, so it was an early night, although there was time first for a cuddle with the kittens whose mum shrewdly adopted Sarah Jane just before giving birth.




In the morning, after an hour's drive to reach the airport, we said goodbye to our favourite daughter, who had to drive back to RAK to teach a class.
It was a crowded, uncomfortable flight as far as Bangkok, but then, mercifully, about half the passengers disembarked. With lots of empty seats, we had a chance to stretch out on the Sydney leg. Nevertheless, we were still tired as we boarded the train back home to Katoomba in what would have been the small hours of the morning back in Ras al Kaimah.

Ras al Kaimah: Day trip to Oman

The emirate of Ras al Kaimah divides the sultanate of Oman in two. We set out for the smaller piece of Oman north of RAK, travelling along the west coast of the promontory that juts north into the Straits of Hormuz.
Crossing the border was an expensive and complicated procedure, involving obtaining documents and paying a goodly sum to both sets of officials. At least, thanks perhaps to our circumspect dress, we were processed quite swiftly and smoothly. Other tourists - women in low-cut sundresses, men in shorts - were having a more prolonged wait.

The road ran on a narrow strip of flat land wedged between the craggy grey mountains and the brilliant azure sea.





From time to time we passed clusters of walled and gated houses, an occasional block of shops and services, and many date palm plantations enclosed by high walls.
In small coves, fishing boats were drawn up on the sandy shore.



We stopped at the Golden Tulip resort for a cup of coffee on the terrace. Acres of tinted glass gave us the opportunity for mirror shots of the three of us.




At Kasab, our destination and the largest town on our route, we spent an interesting hour in the old fort, which has been turned into a museum depicting traditional village life.



Its courtyard contained date palms...



...and a display of old boats, including this one with a camel figurehead.



A cheerful party of schoolchildren in the charge of several black-clad women teachers greeted us with cries of "Hello" and much excitement.



In one of the rooms, we came across a manuscript listing twenty principles of Islam, which seemed very reasonable and responsible tenets to live by. In fact, many would be apt for any denizen of the twenty-first century, regardless of faith.



The sign outside the public conveniences answered a question of how to explain it in pictograms to a population where males and females wear much the same cut of clothing.



After leaving the fort, we found a bit of shade under a date palm to eat our sandwiches, watched by a curious but shy local resident, and a goat.



We wandered around the streets of Khasab for a while, admiring the gates enclosing every house. These are metal with often elegant designs of geometric shapes: rectangles, diamonds and circles. Some have been painted bright blue, some white; all are rusting attractively in the salty air.

Sarah Jane has some good images of other aspects of Khasab and Oman (as well as of our visit to RAK) on her Flickr site.

It had been our intention to hire a dhow for a short sea trip, hoping to see some of the dolphins and turtles that abound in these waters, but only speedboats are available for less than half a day, so our only turtle sighting will remain the dead one washed up on the beach near Sarah Jane's home in RAK.



Dinner back in Ras al Kaimah at a Lebanese restaurant. Tomorrow will be our last day.

Ras al Kaimah: Day trip to Oman

The emirate of Ras al Kaimah divides the sultanate of Oman in two. We set out for the smaller piece of Oman north of RAK, travelling along the west coast of the promontory that juts north into the Straits of Hormuz.
Crossing the border was an expensive and complicated procedure, involving obtaining documents and paying a goodly sum to both sets of officials. At least, thanks perhaps to our circumspect dress, we were processed quite swiftly and smoothly. Other tourists - women in low-cut sundresses, men in shorts - were having a more prolonged wait.

The road ran on a narrow strip of flat land wedged between the craggy grey mountains and the brilliant azure sea.





From time to time we passed clusters of walled and gated houses, an occasional block of shops and services, and many date palm plantations enclosed by high walls.
In small coves, fishing boats were drawn up on the sandy shore.



We stopped at the Golden Tulip resort for a cup of coffee on the terrace. Acres of tinted glass gave us the opportunity for mirror shots of the three of us.




At Kasab, our destination and the largest town on our route, we spent an interesting hour in the old fort, which has been turned into a museum depicting traditional village life.



Its courtyard contained date palms...



...and a display of old boats, including this one with a camel figurehead.



A cheerful party of schoolchildren in the charge of several black-clad women teachers greeted us with cries of "Hello" and much excitement.



In one of the rooms, we came across a manuscript listing twenty principles of Islam, which seemed very reasonable and responsible tenets to live by. In fact, many would be apt for any denizen of the twenty-first century, regardless of faith.



The sign outside the public conveniences answered a question of how to explain it in pictograms to a population where males and females wear much the same cut of clothing.



After leaving the fort, we found a bit of shade under a date palm to eat our sandwiches, watched by a curious but shy local resident, and a goat.



We wandered around the streets of Khasab for a while, admiring the gates enclosing every house. These are metal with often elegant designs of geometric shapes: rectangles, diamonds and circles. Some have been painted bright blue, some white; all are rusting attractively in the salty air.

Sarah Jane has some good images of other aspects of Khasab and Oman (as well as of our visit to RAK) on her Flickr site.

It had been our intention to hire a dhow for a short sea trip, hoping to see some of the dolphins and turtles that abound in these waters, but only speedboats are available for less than half a day, so our only turtle sighting will remain the dead one washed up on the beach near Sarah Jane's home in RAK.



Dinner back in Ras al Kaimah at a Lebanese restaurant. Tomorrow will be our last day.

RAK: Bargaining for a carpet

Sarah Jane wanted to buy a carpet for her apartment so on Saturday we drove for what seemed like ages to the Friday Night Market (which, despite its name, is open every evening). It's a two-lane stretch of road, lined on both sides with open-fronted shops selling fruit and vegetables, assorted trinkets, carpets and plants.

Of course, we had to look at a large selection of rugs, before getting down to the serious business of bargaining.



Rejecting the modern designs hanging on the walls as well as, reluctantly, some beautiful wool kilims, we inspected a number of silk carpets in traditional designs. The negotiations were conducted in a friendly way, but we were rather taken aback when the seller suddenly demanded an extra amount "to pay my helper". Sarah Jane held firm to the agreed-upon price, however, which we later agreed was probably already more than a local would pay.

In the end, everyone was happy.