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  • Bird Spotting in Mushrif Country Park

    We have started going for a walk in Mushrif country Park on Saturday mornings. The bicycle track forms a circuit of about 5 km and it takes us about 50 minutes to walk.

    It is a pleasant walk - rather green and full of birds and birdsong.

    Mushrif Park1

    The track undulates and from the high point there is a good view across the trees to Mirdif and on a clear day, the skyscrapers of Sheikh Zayed Road.

    Mirdif from Mushrif

    I keep trying to photograph the birds we have seen, with conspicuous lack of success. For example, this is my best effort at capturing a hoopoe:

    hoopoe

    So the following pictures have been borrowed from better photographers than I; but we did see the birds! The most common bird in the park is probably the White-cheeked Bulbul, of which there are many jauntering from tree to tree with a flash of yellow underbelly.

    White-Cheeked-Bulbul

    Another very frequently spotted one is the Common Mynah, which we also often see at Nad al Sheba;

    Common-Myna

    Then there are the pigeons and doves, of which we've seen several different types:

    Collared-Dove

    We've seen a number of parakeets, but surely they are feral rather than native:

    green_parakeet

    There are a lot of delicate little browny grey jobs which might be pipits:

    tawny-pipit-uae-2007

    Today we saw one with a crest which I discover is a crested lark:

    galerida_cristata_crested_lark_01

    And although they are apparently quite common, we were thrilled to see a Little Green Bee Eater today, as they are so pretty:

    Little-Green-Bee-Eater

    To cap it all, last Saturday I thought I saw a dead snake, until I got closer and realised it was a live snake! It was only about 30 cm long, but was probably a Sawscale Viper, so it's a good thing I didn't try to pick it up! It looked exactly like this, down to the way it was curled, with it's head in the middle.

    viper

  • Lost in the Ether

    My website has disappeared into the Ether, despite me having paid to continue it.

    It seems my hosts have been bought out by other hosts, and we have to change over. If I had upgraded to the premium rate, the site would have automatically transferred, but as mine was standard issue, I have to upload everything again to the new server. Except my files are all sitting on my computer at home in England, and I'm sitting in Dubai working from a laptop...

    So temporarily my website no longer exists. I hope to resurrect it when I go home on leave, but meanwhile well done if you got here by other means than my link from my site!

  • Lost in Translation

    I taught my children "The Farmer's in his Dell" the other day. They love it, of course. But the first time, they weren't sure how it was played. I deliberately picked one of the older, more savvy ones as the farmer in the middle, and he successfully chose a wife, who picked a child. The child wasn't so confident in English and hesitated. "Go on" I prompted, "Choose someone." "Choose?" she asked, a touch anxiously. "Yes, choose a friend. Pick someone" She still wasn't convinced I meant it. "Choose?" she confirmed. "Choose" I replied. She looked bemused, but obediently sat down and started to remove her shoes....

    Reminded me immediately of a story my late dear father-in-law used to tell. One day he'd been doing a job about the house when little Jenny started to interfere. "Get your fingers off!" he'd berated her. A couple of minutes later she presented herself, naked. "What are you doing?" he asked. "You said get your fings off" she said....

    Which reminded me of another of George's tales. Little Gareth had broken a glass pane in an interior door. George got a replacement from the glazier's and had just finished fixing it when Gareth came in. "How did you break it anyway?" asked the irritated Dad. "Like this" replied Gareth, and showed him....

  • Good old M&S

    Since coming to Dubai and not finding the Hash, we have joined the Caledonian Society and have taken up Scotish country dancing again for exercise.

    It's as much fun as always, and the group we go to, with teacher Carol, is very friendly and welcoming.

    So we bought tickets for the St Andrew's Night Ball in November!

    This is a major social event and entails tuxedos for the men and ball gowns for the ladies.

    Not such a problem you'd think, in the shopper's paradise that is Dubai. Well, no, actually, it wasn't, to my great surprise.

    Ed does have a dinner suit, back in the UK and over a dozen years old, since when his waistline has expanded a tad. So we felt an investment in a new one was justified, when Calvin Klein had a 75% reduction sale. Ed got kitted out in a very nice outfit, for only as much as a normal suit would have cost him at home.

    I thought I'd be more of a problem. I'm middle aged, so many of the dresses designed for the young and beautiful would just look like mutton dressed as lamb on me. Satin is not me. I'm tall, so long dresses often aren't long enough. I'm scrawny chested, which isn't the norm nowadays, when most ladies tend to be amply bosomed. I'm also a bit tight fisted when it comes to laying out for a gown I might only wear once!

    Armed with these counter indications, I wasn't surprised to find nothing suitable in any of the department stores or usual chains. Well, I might have found something in Harvey Nicks or Galleries Lafayette had I been prepared to pay arms and legs, but I wasn't. I tried on a few but none did a thing for me and I desponded.

    I gave up on evening wear and went to Marks and Spencer to buy a pair of trousers I'd seen that would turn my beige jacket into a suit. I bought them, and noticed a couple of racks of evening outfits...

    There were some crochet lace mix and match pieces in black or old gold, which included a long skirt and a tunic top. I took the gold choice and tried it on. Hey presto! Evening dress that will pass as ballgown when enhanced with jewellery, that hides my chest and hips and looks elegant without being over matronly. And I can wear the tunic with trousers for less formal occasions.

    Good old M&S!

    P.S. I've already worn my dress. The girls at work invited me to a Diwali party, with the injunction "Wear a sari". So I said that would be impossible as I don't own one, but I could do long...

    IMG_0864

    Me and Manju.

  • I'm Driving Again

    When I arrived in Dubai at the end of August, I expected to be able to drive, as I had on previous visits. But no. Because I entered with a work visa and an application for residence, my British driving licence was no longer valid; I had to wait for my residence visa to be processed and apply for a UAE driving licence.

    This has meant I have been dependent on Ed driving me to work in the mornings and catching taxis in the afternoons. Not as onerous as it sounds - the taxis here are numerous and the drivers courteous and honest, so it has been OK, but not as convenient as having one's own car to pop about in.

    I waited weeks for my residence permit (preventing trips to Oman as well as driving) but it eventually came back on 28th September, so last week I attempted to get my licence. We gathered all the documentation and I went to get my eyes tested. This took all of a minute and cost Aed 25, but I was set to go.

    First attempt failed because the licensing office doesn't open on Saturdays. Fair enough, if inconvenient. Second attempt failed because I didn't have a No Objection Certificate from my employer, which I didn't realise I needed, but apparently as they are my official sponsors, I did. That took a couple of days, so yesterday was my 3rd try.

    We went to the centre - a large, airy building with a reception, help desks and 26 windows. I went to the receptionist and told her what I wanted. She gave me an application form to fill in and said I didn't need to take a token, just take the form to window 17 when it's completed.

    Window 17 turned out to be the Ladies Section, and a small room rather than window. There was only one lady in front of me, who hadn't quite got all her paperwork in order, so whilst she went off to the in-house photocopier, the pleasant young girl began on my form. I had the form with all my details, my passport and copies of the relevant pages of it; the NOC; the optician's certificate to prove I can see well through my specs; my British licence and a photocopy of it. Turns out I needed the "backside" copied too, so I followed previous lady to the in-house photocopier and had my backside copied (does my bum look big?) for 1 dirham and returned.

    The girl was just completing the previous lady's business and by error she nearly gave her my passport. She realised immediately it was the wrong colour and retrieved it, but she was mortified and offered me a boiled sweet as compensation and was full of apologies.

    She copied my details on her computer and asked me to check the spelling of my name was correct. She then stamped and stapled all my paperwork and sent me to window 26. "Don't forget to smile" she reminded me, showing an example of her own friendly one.

    Window 26 turned out to be the photographer - hence the injunction to smile. I managed a smirk as the man took my picture and sent me next door to window 25.

    "Please wait" they said. As the cafe was right beside this area, we ordered a coffee as we settled to wait - but I was called before we were served and handed my shiny new licence, valid for 10 years.

    I was seriously impressed by the speedy and pleasant service. Obviously I had received preferential treatment as a lady, but there were no long queues or sounds of dispute anywhere - the wheels of bureaucracy were running with polite efficiency to everyone's apparent satisfaction.

    So last night when we went out for dinner, Ed had a few beers and I
    drove home....!

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