For a second Sunday, decided to take an early morning walk before it got too hot. My goal was the
There are a few people around all ready. A veiled woman climbs into a car after doing her shopping. On one corner, two shoe repair stalls are already open. A group of Pakistani men is waiting on a corner; they could be painters. In one of the roundabouts, a lone figure, scarf wrapped around his head, waters the imported sod. Forget to do this every day and you will soon end up with dead, yellow grass. The battle with nature is constant (and some might say pointless).
Because this country is based on a desert, there is sand everywhere. When you add in the poorly tended footpaths, you come home with filthy feet if you wear sandals.
This time I find the museum and am in for a pleasant surprise. Originally a palace, it was built in 1901 and by the standards of other buildings here, is modest and elegent. Form what I can see it is only one story high and has a clean, whitewashed look about it. Unfortunately, it is closed – this being Sunday, it opens only from 4-7pm, as the chap in the information box tells me. After a great struggle, I establish that during the week it is open from 8am to 12 noon. I peep in and see a nicely proportioned courtyard, full of nooks and crannies. In front is an artificial pond. I’ll be back.
On to the Corniche, which I now know is an idea which one of the
All along the path, dates are dropping from the trees. I pick up a few; they look like small plums. There are big yellow ones, small yellow ones and small red ones, so clearly they come in different varieties. The birds are having a feast under the trees, although some have the precious fruit wrapped in netting to stop too many falling.
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