Prepping for the Worst

I am not really up to date with who is backing who in the Syria debate, but I am not entirely comfortable being a couple of hours by camel from the Northern border of KSA. The only countries standing between the violence and us, are Jordan and Iraq. Apparently the military here are not taking any chances either as they are upgrading the strongholds at the check points, with these impressive looking nests, complete with rotating turret. I'm sure this is all just for show because the soldiers don't appear to be highly skilled or disciplined. Notice they do have all the comforts though with an air conditioning unit on the rear - combatants would certainly do well to disable these first.

If anyone is shooting hoops with Obama in the next couple of days, could you ask him to hold off for another week until I'm on leave?

Honking Doesn't Really Help

On a long drive to another Port for an inspection of a damaged barrier, we came across a caravan of camels (that is the collective noun, I looked it up), which were doing there darndest to hold us up. As we approached the beasts slowed to a crawl and proceeded to cross the road in single file, which kind of resembled a conga line (that probably explains the whole 'caravan' thing I guess).

The last guy was wearing some sort of outfit over his hump which I can only presume was to hide his embarrassingly undersized bulge.

I knew these camels had planned to screw us over as when they finally were out of the way they all huddled up to laugh and discuss what an excellent job of bringing us to a halt they had done.

A Saudi Sunrise

The surreal thing about staying in the desert is the amount of sand that gets blown into the air. On occasions I have to postpone my morning jog as it is too heavy on the lungs. Another fallout from the haze is some magnificent sunrises. It is kind of like a streaking red comet that explodes into a white ball as it reaches the top of the sand barrier, bringing with it the piercing heat. Not sure my camera phone does it justice - but hopefully you get the idea.

Bow tying

On my lonely nights here in the camp, I have taken to brushing up on the final wedding details. Vows and Speech mainly, although I do take the time to practice another important required skill - the bow tie. Of course when the Girl professed a desire for me to suit up in a tux she probably already knew that I would go all out and tie this myself. After the first couple of attempts you can actually start to feel how easy it could be with a bit more practice. I kind of wish I worked in a profession that enabled me to wear one occasionally (and then I remember how awesome my life is without a bow tie, and instantly dismiss it).

I'll leave this with a quote from the 11th Doctor, "Bow ties are cool."

The Shoes

While I was home last, the Girl convinced me to upgrade my thirty quid dress shoes, from Topman, for the wedding. We headed to Saks (on Fifth Avenue) as they had all of the designer labels under one roof. While I meandered about the selection, mostly pointing out the ones I didn't like, we laughed at the price tag of some of the more ludicrous looking ones - I'm sorry but if you are paying more than $2000 for mens shoes then you really need reassess the value of money. Soon enough the Girl grabbed a helpful clerk to assist and after a brief discussion of the occasion he directed me to a lovely pair of shoes. The Girl's eyes lit up and I must say they were pretty good to look at. As the clerk went out the back to grab a range of sizes for me to try on, the Girl excitedly told me she was very happy I was trying on Salvatore Ferragamo's. At that stage, I had to turn over the shoes to see a very expensive price tag staring back at me. The only thing I could think of, was this was from the hide of a famous cow, perhaps it was once "Norman" from City Slickers. Regardless my next move was the beginning of my demise as the Girl said, "Just try them on for a starting point."

The gentleman returned and after a round of slipping on and off the different shapes, I was finally Cinderella with a perfect fit. I got up and walked around the store as the clerk had insisted I do, and all I could think was how did they get the pillows into this fine leather. They were not the hard bricks that I was used to trying on that only feel right on your feet a couple of days before you throw them out. No, this pair felt like they were made for my feet alone. It was around this time I saw the Girl smiling, the clerk had that look where he's thinking about the commission and my destiny sealed to spend a ludicrous amount of money on a pair of shoes. I must say it was a very good experience in general to have the old school salesman measure my feet and fit a range of shoes. My one saving grace was a final word from the Girl, "Don't worry, you didn't spend more money on the wedding shoes than I did." Not sure that is really a victory?

Bingo Booty

On my last night before leaving for Saudi, the Girl decided to spoil me by taking us to my favourite Mexican restaurant, Tortilla Flats. It also happened to be my favourite night of the week there - Bingo Night, where you play for shirts, shots and glory. As the night goes on the bar gets a lot rowdier and the drinking looser.

As luck would have it I won a particular round, known as "the Gin" round, which meant I had to scull a near full pint of gin in order to receive the booty. In one foul movement I picked up the glass, peppered my lips to the rim and threw back the ghastly contents before the throat could taste the poison. I was pretty impressed with my feat, which grew into pride as I received high fives from all of the staff members who looked on wide eyed.

My booty ended up being three T-shirts and shots for the table (unfortunately there was only two of us and the waiter had to drink the Girls, who was working the next day). Once the shots were demolished, I cleaned off the pitcher of potent Sangria that the girl and I had shared (I think she managed a glass and a half). After that, I kind of remember walking to get a Magnolia cupcake, but mostly only waking up the next morning with a nasty headache. What an awesome night though, to send me to the dry Saudi for a month.

The Vest

Before I came back to Saudi, I picked myself up a training weight vest. This was to increase my work rate for my morning jog / exercise. I would love to be able to increase my distance but that is not viable with the time available to me so I wear the vest to increase my workload - "feel the burn".

I had trialled it out in NYC with success. Not even half a look from passer-bys. That wasn't the same here in the camp. I jog around 3:30 or 4am dependent on distance, as it is a little too hot after work. The call to prayer at the moment is just before 4, so the punters are up and bleary eyed just after this. My first day drew a raft of funny looks from people that didn't really phase me, but maybe I should have thought about it a little more.

After I got back to my room I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. With the headphone wires sprawled out of the top of the vest, you can probably imagine what these guys where thinking as this white guy was running towards their Mosque. Fortunately I'm pretty friendly with the guards carrying the big guns, so they hopefully recognised me after a quick wave.

Planning the ceremony

Would just like to note first up - there are no spoilers here. The following is what the Girl vetoed from my ideas of the wedding.

Celebrant: "The couple would now like to recite their vows."

Me: "John, can I please buy a vow?"

Me: "I take thee Rachel...."

Celebrant: "By the power...... of greyskull, I now pronounce you husband and wife."

The Girl: "I have the power...."

Ending the ceremony by knocking knuckles was also binned but that was probably my fault, high five should have been the call.

Do you think I watched a little too much TV in my youth?