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Ten
years ago this month, I went to Dhahran in Saudi Arabia
to visit my brother, John. He and his wife, Christine lived
there and their eldest son, James and his younger brother,
Josh were born there.
Saudi
Arabia is a country that one cannot just visit - even to
see family. My visit was a 'business trip'. I had to prove
that I was going there on business to get the visa. Other
than the corruption, a Saudi official trying to obtain payment
for my visa from both myself and from the Saudi company,
a huge cosmetics company in Dhahran, this was not too difficult
as John was the General Manager. I went as a 'prospective
client'. (The Saudi Embassy phoned me the day before I left,
insisting that I had to pay £50 for my visa - I telephoned
my brother to find out what was going on and he had just
had the same man phone him at work asking for the same amount
and that he had paid the fee - they were just trying to
get double payment.)
A
week before I left for Dhahran, I injured my back and needed
help just to stand up. Dr. Downey in Ross said there was
no way I would recover in time and that I had no choice
but to cancel the trip. The air ticket had cost over £1,000
though and was non refundable, so I spent the week forcing
myself to get around with walking sticks and I wore a special
heat belt thingy during the flight. Once there, the heat
of the sun cured the problem pretty quickly.
Dhahran
is definitely NOT a place I would like to live. I
would sooner stick a needle in my own eye. It is like living
on the moon but with a blue sky above - and it is as hot
as Hell.
When
the plane touched down after its ten hour flight and the
door was opened, I could almost see the oppressive heat
rush through the cabin. It literally took my breath away
after the air conditioned journey. Of course, being June,
it was the hottest time of year and the temperature reached
47 degrees centigrade (120f) on one occasion, which is at
the very top of the scale of my home thermometer. The mornings,
at a mere 100 to 110 Fahrenheit, were uncomfortable but
just tolerable. Even during the early hours of the morning
- 3 am, walking out of the air conditioned house into the
garden was like walking into an fan assisted oven. The hot
wind is almost unimaginable.
I
made my first mistake with the Arabs in Dhahran airport,
handing my passport to the gun carrying official with my
left hand. Although I was aware that this was 'not done',
I was just tired after the journey and did not do it intentionally.
From the reaction it caused, I thought I was going to be
arrested, get the full body search and everything but I
acted the dumb Englishman and the situation eventually resolved
itself. John met me after 'immigration' and drove me to
his home. It was 2:00 am in Dhahran and moths the size of
robins were hitting the windscreen.
While
I was there, I helped John and Chris move house and baby
sat while John worked and Chris went bowling. We ate camel
meat and had fun with other Brits abroad, as well as the
Arabs between the moving house bit. I swam in the Persian
Gulf, which was hot, extremely salt and full of nasty jelly
fish. I fed Sweet Baby James with a bottle - my first experience
of bottle feeding since my little sister was a baby. (My
own children were all breast fed.) We also got drunk - several
times!
Yes
- I was expecting Saudi to be alcohol free but I drank the
strongest beer I have ever experienced in Dhahran. Alcohol
is illegal in Saudi but the Brits and Americans buy alcohol
free beer and then re-ferment it, using a 'Durex' as a fermentation
lock. Vodka and Whiskey were also obtainable at some establishments,
at £50.00 per bottle, 'under the counter'.
I
caught what is known by the regulars as 'The Graveyard Flight'
back to London after the visit. It is so named due to the
darkness most of the way home - dawn appearing just a couple
of hours before landing. John, Chris and James were on the
same plane as they were coming home for a holiday but they
sat miles from me as our tickets were purchased at different
times. Tina and a friend, Tony met me at Heathrow in my
car at around 7 o'clock in the morning and I slept the journey
back to Ross. This was at the time Tina and I had only been
seeing one another for a short time - we were not living
together then.
I
am happy to say that after five years, John, Christine and
family eventually left Saudi safely. They left during the
second Gulf War, after a car bomb exploded outside their
'Zamil' home, (the new house in the film below) killing
their best friend, whom I met whilst there. The family now
live in Preston, while John works in Modena, Italy - commuting
home at weekends.
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