Husband writes: A typical Friday (Sunday) morning in the Mitchell household:
Wake up late. Leisurely breakfast in jammies. Mum and dad chill on the sofa, F draws quietly, C careering around the house on his toy car, shrieking at every corner.
"What shall we do today?"
"Shall we go out somewhere?"
"Yeah, ok."
Pause 20 minutes for another cup of tea.
"Where do you fancy going?"
"How about we go out for a picnic?"
"Sounds good."
Another 20 minutes pass.
"Where shall we go?"
"I read Wadi Fanja is nice."
"Ok, shall we aim to set off by 10?"
"Sounds good. What time is it now?"
"Errrrr. 11.30. And we have to be back in time for F to go for a party at 4!"
And so another leisurely morning turns into a mad panic. Kids who were quite happy playing around the house are dragged, complaining, upstairs to get dressed. The fridge is raided and dumped wholesale into the cool box. Rolls are taken out of the freezer: "They'll be fine by the time we get there". Drinks are packed and repacked.
"I don't want mango juice, I want strawberry!"
"But I don't like strawberry, I want apple!"
The tub of fresh pineapple dumps it's juice all over the kitchen floor. The salad leaks olive oil onto the biscuits. The tub of feta you were saving turns out to be more yoghurt than cheese.
At last, the swimming bag is packed, the boot is loaded with enough food for a 2 week expedition and the kids are strapped, still complaining that they were in the middle of something vital, into the back seat and the adventure begins.
And it turned out to be a lovely afternoon, despite the satnav taking us to the the local landfill site first (maybe I should have programmed it in conjunction with the guide book).
It's a little nerve wracking taking your lovely new car off road, but following in the tracks of some canny locals we were soon slip-sliding our way across the gravel beds of the wadi, wading axle deep as we crisscrossed the stream, and bottling out when it looked like 4L may be required. We found a nice spot right by the water and within minutes the kids had forgotten all about whatever essential item they'd been forced to leave behind in the playroom. A stream with warm water to paddle in and stones to play with beats My Little Pony and Lightning McQueen any day. Ok, well, it'll do for an hour or two.
It was just like one of the wonderful days out I remember from growing up in Scotland. Except we didn't have to wear raincoats while paddling, we didn't need hot pea and ham soup to warm us afterwards, and we didn't eat our sandwiches staring through the steamed up windows of the car.
But very reminiscent all the same. Although I did miss the thickly buttered doorsteps of home made fruit loaf (spiced please, Mum).
23°34'7.71"N
58° 6'56.27"E
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