It might be of interest to someone....

I didn't think I had much to write about! But here I am again! Not bad when you put your mind to it! Off goes the televsion, music on (Mumford and Sons tonight) and there we go. I wonder how long this will last! This will probably be it for the week! I've got my neighbours worried I might divulge some of their antics! [snigger] You know who you are!

YAY!! Mama and Daddy Books are about to book to come and see us next year! Along with a couple of sets of friends coming over it's going to be a lovely spring! We decided that we were travelling so much 09/10, we really missed spending the best time of the year in Oman. But I guess it was the first full year we have been here so felt we needed to go back.

So we're in autumn now and I can start to see the weather is changing. The temperature is a little more comfortable (not by much though, humidity still gets me...and my hair) but you can really see the difference over the mountains. They're not set in a permanent dust haze, they're looking really clear and magnificent! They are the first impression I had of this country as we flew into Muscat International in November '08 so are really special. As much as I love being near the beach and the sea, there is something quite humbling driving through the mountains.

And as many of you know I like to think of weather/geography as my speciality. Although I seemed to have had most of my memory wiped by Motherhood...Husband probably knows more than I do, in fact, I'm sure he does. About everything. But hey, that doesn't stop a Spotter spotting, does it?!

So anybody want to get to know the climate here? Anyone interested? Oh, please don't go! COME BACK!!! OK, just humour me and it'll all be over in a few minutes!

Muscat, Oman

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Month	Average Sunlight (hours)	Temperature				Discomfort from heat and humidity	Relative humidity		Average Precipitation (mm)	Wet Days (+0.25 mm)
		Average		Record
		Min	Max	Min	Max		am	pm
Jan	9	19	25	11	31	Medium	72	71	28	2
Feb	10	19	25	12	32	Medium	73	73	18	1
March	9	22	28	17	42	Medium	71	70	10	1
April	11	26	32	19	41	High	64	68	10	1
May	12	30	37	24	44	Extreme	58	60	0	0
June	12	31	38	26	47	Dangerous	72	72	3	0
July	9	31	36	25	45	Extreme	77	77	0	0
Aug	10	29	33	24	42	Extreme	82	80	0	0
Sept	11	28	34	23	42	Extreme	75	77	0	0
Oct	10	27	34	21	41	Extreme	69	74	3	0
Nov	10	23	30	17	36	High	69	72	10	1
Dec	9	20	20	16	33	-	70	71	18	2

Note the 'Dangerous' level of discomfort from heat and humididty in June! So we're not being rude when we say don't visit during the summer! And although the record in the summer has been recorded at 47, this is probably the offical recording. Husband and I can vouch that it reached at least 50C last summer.

At this time and in the spring, we can never say what the weather will do day to day because it is usually a battle of the desert wind and the sea wind - think of the country's location and situation. So when the desert wind takes over, the temperature shoots up but it is a dry heat and is actually bearable. When the sea wind takes over the humidity increases as the water content in the air has increased. That's why you'd see more in the way of clouds on a humid day. Needless to say, it can feel very unpleasant.

The northern part of Oman consists of the Jebel Akhdar, a mountain range rising to just over 3,000 m/10,000 ft. The annual rainfall on the higher parts of the Jebel Akhdar probably exceeds 400 mm/20 in. In the rest of Oman the annual rainfall is below 125 mm/5 in except in the hills of Dhofar in the extreme south.

Along the south coast the cloudy rainy season is between June and September, but in the Jebel Akhdar and in the lowlands of the north rain may fall at any time of the year. Very occasionally a tropical cyclone in the Arabian Sea brings a spell of very wet, windy weather to the coast of Oman and this may cause damage through wind and flood. Google Gonu and Phet!

Temperatures and humidity are high throughout the year on the coast and the period May to September is the hottest and most unpleasant season. Temperatures rise even higher inland towards the Rub' al Khali, but here humidity is lower so that the high temperatures are more tolerable and the nights are cooler.

The following bar chart for Muscat, Oman shows the years average weather condition readings covering rain, average maximum daily temperature and average minimum temperature.

All the above info is courtesy of the Beeb weather site. Although I wouldn't trust them. They have had all sorts working for that department ;-)

There you go! Painless, huh? HUH??? Am I really that boring...?

I've had my weather fix now, although I'm teaching year 3/4 weather around the world tomorrow in Geography! YES! They're doing a presentation on anabatic and katabatic winds next week. Joke.

Anyone have Arcade Fire's new album (probably several months old now....)?

Why have I not seen Glee until now???!! The College Football players dancing to Beyonce was just classic television. Loved it!

PS I would post this evening's sunset picture but my lens was filthy *slap wrist* so I'll sort it out and maybe post it tomorrow.

Take care, y'all.

Tut...not another one!

WOW! Here I am! I am yet another blogger in the world! Don't worry, I'm not a serious one -I will not be offering wonderfully articulated views and comments on the world's events and peoples. It's another way to say hi to my family and friends and try to make them more a part of our life here in Oman. Faceache is great for immediate 'hellos' and 'how are yous' but this I hope, will give a bit more detail - if anyone wants it of course! Thanks to Mrs. Marleyman who directed me and inspired me - she writes a blog for the very same reasons, having made a huge decision to move somewhere that wasn't quite on the family's doorstep anymore.

As an aside, I went to school with Mrs. Marleyman and we have got back in touch via good ol' FB. We had the same shoes at school...I'm embarrassed that I can't quite remember more than that!

Mum and I have started handwriting letters to each other. I went through a phase a few months ago of writing to a couple of my girlfriends in the UK and my Mum. It felt so therapeutic.... We rely so much on emails now that it's refreshing to see somebody's handwriting AND to actually write something apart from a shopping list! Trouble is, living here, mail takes at least 2 weeks most of the time. Bear still hasn't got her birthday card from Nanny and Grandad :-(  So she is still writing the letter, I'll look forward to receiving that.

Admiral Fallow has been playing most of this afternoon in the house....they were on the BBC Introducing Stage at T in the Park this year. We didn't see them until the highlights on tv. Just brilliant, really original and so refreshing. I am really missing British music. Two radio stations of varying quality here (not going to say anymore than that). So any suggestions for getting music here! We download albums into iTunes....but what I'd like to do is download British radio shows and play them on my MP3 player...(I'm not a Apple girl as Husband will tell you....although I could be tempted with an iPod...but then that would mean using the Mac more....oh, god I struggle with the Mac....). I digress - our Apple-Windows feuds are another post altogether. I don't think I can download shows, just 'listen again'. It's Zane Lowe on Radio 1 and Radcliffe and Maconie on Radio 2 in particular. A 25 minute podcast might do the trick but that's just a journey to school and back.

It was a lovely sunset here this evening. The cloud formation reminded me a little of the clouds I saw when Husband drove me to the hospital when I was in labour with Bear. Except then, it was at night time!



Looking west from our roof



 

A few minutes later



Well, another weekend over :-( It was a peaceful one with a party at the pool yesterday and a chilled day today. Have planned school for most of the week...I've only got 2 weeks left! Husband is back home Monday...inshallah.

Good luck for the Hammers tomorrow...God knows they need it....

Hello! Remember us?!

Well, it dawned on me that we have not written anything here for over a year now. I may have to redo the opening blurb...apparently it was something about ramblings about our adventures here. I had in mind that we would be writing excitedly about every single thing that happens to us....

Let me explain. I hope.

It is TRULY wonderful here. We settled in so quickly and are all very happy. I thought this blog would be all about everything we get up to....but these adventures are part of our normal life, I am very grateful and happy to say. On a weekend, we can either drive in to the mountains or go out on the boat for an afternoon's snorkel and picnic, or decide to stay by the pool. So I didn't have the time to write about everything we did, as I originally thought we would! Plus, the musings about the same place that we love to go to may become a tad tedious for any reader.

Of course, that highlights the fact that this is the idyllic, sunny, social lifestyle but there is the frustrating 'otherside' of living here as an expat.

I recently started to visit a blog of a writer here, who has since moved away as he was entirely disillusioned and somewhat tired of the bureaucracy and the media amongst other things... he loved the country, its people and its beauty but felt that a lot more 'reality' was on offer elsewhere. Apparently the magic has worn off. I am fully aware that this may be the case for The Mitchells one day but until then we fully intend to enjoy the opportunity we have been given, appreciate the society and culture here for what it is, maybe get to be part of the local life here and make some amazing and gorgeous friends. One of those friends has already moved away after their stint here. We miss them like mad, but its the nature of the expat life, I am now realising. Hence more of a reason to make the most of the life and people here. This blog will not contain any political or financial thoughts and comments. I'm not that kind of writer and more importantly do not want to be censored and deported.

Let's leave that there...

On the up- and rather glamourous side, I've also been visiting a rather more lovely and less serious blog, How To Live Like an Omani Princess (apparently she's Not Omani). I came across it looking for tips to survive as an expat during Ramadan. I became completely distracted and now drop in every now and then to enjoy their observations of society here.

So this will now be more of a diary about day to day life, although definitely not everyday! Maybe one sentence, maybe a page. Hopefully Husband will put his amusing take on it all!

I've had a few comments on age-old posts, so thank you for that. I guess that's also prompted me to get back here. Oh, and a dear friend, C who's starting on a venture online - I'll post her site when it's sorted.

OK, I'm off to watch the rest of Little Miss Sunshine. Our camper story's a long one if you've not heard it - that would have 4 weeks worth of amusing blog entries...

Boating update

Husband writes:
It works! The engineer has been beavering away on our engine and at last it runs perfectly. It turns out the previous owner had barely used the boat in the past year and the whole thing needed a good clean out.

Finally we managed to get the family out and had our first adventure on the high seas. We didn’t go far, just 15 mins around the coast to a little deserted cove. Bear and Daddy went snorkelling, while Pops pretended he was cruising in Monaco, smiling at the imaginary ladies and waving to the landlubbers (also imaginary).

Wifey seems to have found her spiritual home, diving off the boat, floating in the warm water, then walking along a deserted beach.

We had a brief heart stopping moment when the main engine failed to re-start when we were wanted to set off home, but it was soon resolved with a bit of priming and some words of ‘encouragement’.

Another minor problem on the way home was not being able to refuel at the marina - apparently they don’t take credit cards on a Friday. Go figure.

All in all a successful first family voyage. We’re still getting used to handling the boat at close quarters (apologies to the man at the fueling station) but a bit of practice and we’ll be ready to take guests (if you dare).

It has made us think though. This boat is 26’ long and 8’ wide. The Moorings 4000 we have booked for our holiday next year is 40’ long and 20’ wide. Yikes!

Boating for pleasure

Husband writes: I love boats. Always have. I joined the Navy when I was 18 and even that didn’t put me off. My first foray into ‘boating’ was when my Dad picked up a couple of old, leaky canoes and we spent a good while in the garage, stinking of resin and coughing up fibreglass. Eventually they were ready to hit the water and, miraculously (sorry Dad!), they floated. Even the 3’ of ½” timber glassed into the keel to stop the thing flexing like a warm Caramel bar worked a treat.

Between then and now I’ve been on/in a fair variety of boats. I was ship’s company on HMS Ark Royal (I was occasionally allowed on the bridge, but under strict orders to not touch anything - I was aircrew after all). I sailed the Canary Isles on a 55’ Nicholson (as foredeck crew, again presumably to put me as far away as possible from anything breakable). I had a few forays on a Contessa 38 until the skipper banned me. Apparently the sound of me retching over the leeward rail, right above his bunk, all the way across the Channel kept him awake.

I even had a command for a while - The Commodore’s Barge at Rosyth. Don’t laugh - for a  time it was the fastest boat on the River Forth. Unfortunately speed didn’t help when the Commodore lost his cap overboard and I managed to stall an engine during the attempted recovery. The Commodore looked on stony faced as I plowed into the jetty and his cap sank without a trace.

So as you can see, I love boats. But they don’t necessarily agree with me.

Obviously history was never going to quash my love of boats, so here we in a boaters paradise and it’s time for a first foray into ownership. The first opportunity arose a couple of weeks ago over a beer. One of the loan service RAF blokes is leaving soon and was trying to sell his 16’ sailing catamaran. Ideal! A cheap way to get on the water, have some fun with the kids and keep the sailing juices flowing until the lottery win and the 50’ cruiser. So a deal was done.

Following on behind came another unexpected opportunity. A colleague at work had found the perfect family motor boat and wanted someone to share the costs. A 26’ catamaran, 200hp outboard, bags of space, well looked after. So another agreement was reached.

At last, this week, the dream of having our own boat (2 in fact) was about to come true. First to get the 16’. I met V down at the beach to learn how to rig and launch the boat. We went out for a sail and everything went perfectly. After an hour or so we headed for the beach and the final hand over. We dropped the foresail so I could sail single handed as Bear donned her brand new buoyancy jacket, grinning from ear to ear. Finally we waved V off and and pulled the boat back into the water.

Just as I was lifting Bear onto the boat, not 2 minutes after V had left, there was a slight ‘ping’ and the mast and mainsail dropped gracefully over the side.

Next came the handover of the motor cat. T and I decided we’d take the boat out ourselves and get properly acquainted before we risked the lives of our families to our dubious nautical experience. A good job we did too.

We launched smoothly, gracefully slipping from the trailer and heading out to sea at a stately 8 kts. A mile out we decided the engine was nicely warmed and it was time to see what she would do.

2000rpm......2500.........3000.........cough......cough...........splutter............silence.

The next 45 minutes was spent trying to get it started again. We tried every combination of choke in, choke out, spare fuel tank, spare fuel feed line, engine primed, throttle open, throttle closed, all to no avail. Thankfully the spare engine started with a quick tug, so every 10 mins or so we would flash it up, head away from the rocks the wind was blowing us towards, then shut it down and reconnect the fuel to the main engine to try again.

Alas, we couldn’t get the damned the thing started. Our maiden voyage ended with us chugging back at 5 kts on the little 30hp spare. I sat on the swim deck keeping the manual throttle open while Thierry steered with the trailing main engine. Co-ordinating throttle and steering to get back on the trailer was an evolution we definitely need more practice at, but we managed without major injury to the boat or personnel.

So now we are the proud owners/co-owners of two boats, neither of which has a reliable primary means of propulsion.

My experience with boats looks fated to continue repeating itself. Updates to follow.

Summer has officially arrived............and it’s a strange affair. Throughout May the temperature was slowly creeping up, but as it was only a degree or so at a time it kind of went unnoticed. Right up to the point that you left the house, walked through the pizza oven and got into the car.

Just when we thought it would just keep getting hotter, until the birds fell from the trees ready cooked and nasal hair crinkled with each breath, June arrived. May ended with an official 51°C (55°C indicated on the car). The following morning, the temperature had dropped to a paltry 37°C and all was well. Right up to the point you left the house, walked through the turkish bath and got into the car.

37°C isn’t bad, but allied to 75% humidity, it gets a little uncomfortable. Walking from the car to the aircon comfort of the shopping mall you see people everywhere doing the expat shuffle - trying to look cool and in control whilst glancing over the shoulder to check for dark patches in the butt cleft. The blokes add a little shimmy to ‘free-up the boys downstairs’ and the women heft the handbag a little higher and glue their arms to their sides.

The rest of June has been a mixture. Some days the hot, dry desert air wins the battle and some days it’s the cooler, moist sea breeze. Throwing back the curtains you can get a pretty good idea of what to expect. If you can see the garden but not the mountains it’s hot and dusty (floppy hat and factor 50). If you can’t see the garden it’s condensation on the outside of the windows and it’s going to be a drippy day (double deodorant and baggy shorts).

Apparently this to and fro lasts about a month before the sea breeze wins and holds sway for July and August. Come September, it starts all over.

One unusual aspect of the hot weather is the tap reversal, and it takes some getting used to. The ‘cold’ water tank is on the roof and as a result gets mighty hot. The ‘hot’ water tanks are inside, in 24°C air-conditioned comfort (with the immersion heater switched off). You end up turning on the cold tap for your shower, then adding hot to cool it down. For the first couple of weeks of the really hot weather, as people make their bleary-eyed way to the bathroom,  I imagine I can hear the yelps of surprised expats echoing around the city as a counterpoint to the morning call to prayer.

Biggest adventure so far!

Husband writes: Day trip to Wadi Bani Awf

With temperatures rising and day trips to the beach becoming more of an ordeal, the best place to go for a day out is up into the mountains. With temperatures up to 20°C cooler than at sea level it makes a pleasant change and gives relief from the summer without having to rely on the ubiquitous aircon.

So a day out was planned. We'd not worry about setting out at silly o'clock, because the route chosen would only take a couple of hours to the top, and get us to our intended picnic site by lunchtime. I'd heard that there was now a tarmac road over the mountains which would speed our passage, and that Wadi Bani Awf was a spectacular trip.

Here was my first mistake. Unfortunately I omitted to check that the tarmac road and Wadi Bani Awf where one and the same route. As it turned out, both set off from roughly similar areas, and both headed up the mountain in a similar direction, but unfortunately Wadi Bani Awf has no tarmac whatsoever, and according to the guide book involves "Challenging off-road mountain and wadi driving". Yes, we have the guide book (and luckily we had it in the car with us) but no, I didn't bother to read it properly before setting out.

Apart from the quote above, other comments which may have set alarm bells ringing were:

"....perhaps the most spectacular mountain road in Oman", "Tragically, there have been casualties in this area" and the classic "....a stone memorial marks the spot where one unfortunate driver failed to negotiate the hairpin bends with vertiginous consequences."

Lesson: Read the f*****g book.

The drive from home to the foot of the mountains was uneventful. The readout in the car told us the outside temperature had hit 48°C so we were looking forward to having our picnic at 30°C, at 6500'. Eventually we reached the appropriate signpost and happily turned off the main road towards our destination. Looking back, I have to wonder why nobody mentioned the fact that instead of a smooth, well defined tarmac road stretching off into the distance, majestically climbing the mountain in long elegant sweeps, we were now bumping along a rough gravel track towards a deep cleft in a vertical wall rising 4000' above us.

But press on we did, and for a good while it was a fantastic experience. For the first few miles the track runs along the dry wadi, flanked by lush date palms with the almost vertical canyon sides towering above. At this time of year there's very little surface water in the wadi, but the water height marker bears witness to the dramatic flash floods that can occur when there is rain further up in the mountains. At various spots along the way, the canyon opens out slightly and tiny small-holdings appear along the margins, growing whatever they can on the only flat terrain for miles around. These 'farms' are really no more than over-blown vegetable patches, but it's enough for people to survive here. During the dry months, water from high up is funneled down through man made water courses called 'falaj', irrigating each village and farm on the descent in turn. This is the way it has been done for hundreds of years, and is still as effective now.

At this stage the track was fairly good so Wifey decided it was time for her first off-road driving experience. Nervous at first, she soon got into the swing of things and by mile 2 she was barreling along nicely. Thankfully the car doesn't have a hand brake or she would have been tail-sliding it round the hairpins.

Further up we came to the village of Az Zamah, another remarkably lush oasis in the hot, dry mountains. Initially we missed the turn to head further up the mountain, and followed the main wadi to a dead end. There we found a spectacular gorge heading off deep into the surrounding rock. The first few hundred metres were flooded due to a man-made damn but it looked shallow enough to wade and give access to a spectacular walk. We'll be back to explore.

After re-tracing our steps for half a mile we found the track we needed hidden between some date palms and a goat pen. The first few hundred metres were fine but when we got to the first steep hairpin and I suggested permanent 4WD, Wifey decided she'd had enough in the driving seat. We flicked the switch to engage the 4WD and carried on with only the occasional slip/slide. On the next descent we rounded a corner to be confronted by a JCB, crewed by jolly looking bloke and engaged in rebuilding the road. We sat in stunned silence for a moment or two, and it was at this point we began to wonder what exactly we thought we were doing. We were trying to negotiate a rough gravel track, barely wide enough for the car, up a mountain we'd never been to before, with a guide book we hadn't read. The track had been getting progressively rougher, narrower and steeper as we'd gone along but we hadn't noticed as we marveled at the spectacular scenery around us. As we sat there waiting for the JCB to finish the road we had to make a decision, carry on or go back. Looking at the rudimentary map in the guide book, it appeared we were a good ¾ of the way to the top so we decided to press on. Surely we'd broken the back of it and it couldn't get any worse? Besides, there was nowhere wide enough to turn around.

A mile later it got worse. Much worse. There were stretches so steep we had to crawl up in low ratio, so narrow there would have been nowhere to stand if you opened the door, and crests where the road disappeared below the bonnet and there was nothing but sky through the windscreen. Occasionally there was the respite of a brief, level, interlude as we passed through a slight widening of the gorge. Invariably there were signs of life at every spot large enough to accommodate the meagrest of farms, We passed tiny terraced fields, stone built houses clinging to the cliff, and even a football pitch straddling the road. There was one particularly beautiful spot where a collection of houses overlooked a date palm grove, with lush grass beneath and small standings of corn growing next to the wadi. Just beyond, where a spring appeared from under the bare rock face, a small damn held a pool of water, the reservoir for every home further down the wadi.

From here on up it was a seemingly endless series of tight hairpins, steep climbs and a still deteriorating road. Where it opened out and we could go a bit quicker we'd go back to high ratio with hope in our hearts, only to be forced to stop and go back to low to cross a washed out section or crawl round an impossible looking switch-back.

At last, 4 hours after leaving home, we reached the top. Creeping round the last corner we were suddenly confronted with the glorious sight of tarmac. I imagine we had the same feeling as the first explorers to set off onto a never crossed ocean and, months later, sight land for the first time. Natalie would have dismounted and kissed the warm asphalt if there had been room on her side to get out.

And was the end of our adventure. We had a lovely picnic in the cool mountain air, with a spectacular view back down the route we'd come. To celebrate, Pops had his first stand-up pee in the great outdoors. Not a bad place to do it, looking down from a 6500' mountain! From there it was smooth tarmac all the way home and the only event to spoil our swift passage home was Pops, projectile vomiting. Unperturbed by 4 hours bouncing up a mountain, 15 mins on the twisting tarmac descent was more than his little stomach could handle. It was quite spectacular too. He managed to get grape juice, tomato skins and humus all the way from his car seat to the dashboard.

It was a long day, but a great adventure. Now that we've done it once, we'd be happy to take any visitors with a spirit of adventure back into the wadi. There are lots of other routes and detours to shorten the journey, and with planning we could incorporate camping en-route. Next step is to buy the trekking guide and get away from the roads.

I might even read that one before setting off.

p.s. If anyone is interested, I've plotted the route and added some photos on Google Earth. If you want the file, drop us an email or leave a comment.