Settling in now...

Unfortunately it's now Saturday and over the course of the last few days I'm finding it difficult to pin-point the specific days anything happened. It's the inevitable downfall once you establish a routine I suppose. 

Each morning I get up at 5:20am, have a shower, get dressed, make myself either a bowl of cereal or scrambled egg (depending if I've been motivated enough to wash my one bowl and pan the night before) and head out to work at 6am sharp. Once there I'm typically met in the staff room by two of the English trainers and greeted in passing by the rest. After a coffee it's usually time then for everyone else to go to lessons leaving me and my mentor to carry on chatting about anything that pleases us. We check our e-mails (although being relatively new I'm suprised when I get anything and they are often about local events going on in the area sent to everyone) and my time sheet (which my mentor says is the most important part of this job!) and then resume the mission to keep out of the way and look like were being productive. To be fair quite often we are, although informally, with a few new words of wisdom during every conversation from him to me and we both enjoy comparing notes of our experiences over the years of where we worked previously. 

We'd been asked by the department head to do some proctoring throughout the week which although is very dull, makes me feel that at least I do have some use at this stage. Prior to our first one however, my mentor was asked to look after a class for one of the other teachers leaving me to go it alone for the first time. I was quite daunted by the idea initially, the thought of actually having to interact with the students of my own accord wasn't something that I was looking forward to at all. Nevertheless I make my way to the test room 10 minutes before the scheduled start and knocked on the door. A test administrator opened it and let me in, handing me a piece of paper with the names, ID numbers and an allocated workstation at which to take the test. When I had signed myself in and was ready he asked me to begin calling them in. Opening the door I was immediately met with over a dozen young faces all impatiently waiting for thei number to be called. Calling the first one a student stepped forward to the front. Holding up his ID I checked the name and number corresponded with that written on the piece of paper and told him his allocated number. After the third or fourth my nerves subsided and my pathological fear of public displays was temporarily overcome - something that I know I need to work on and I hope to make the most of this role to get over.

That evening my mentor and I decided we would meet up for a coffee and doughnut in Crispy Creme in hte middle of town seeing as I was too unwell over the weekend to make it previously. Insisting that it was customary not to buy on the first occasion (though I'm not sure this is such a long standing tradition enough to have developed such guidelines yet) he paid. Really this was no different to what we had spend most the last few days doing anyway. We sat there, eating our two doughnuts and drinking our coffees continuing where we left off as we'd parted ways at work. By now I wonder where we find the subjects for our conversations and beleive it's a miracle we haven't run out of things to say but in a new country so different to what either of us is used to and with so many different customs to highlight it may yet even be some time before the conversation truly comes to an end and in fact is even less liely given that there will be a few new UK guys arriving soon, thus beginning the entire affair again from the beginning, and the fact that my mentor will soon be gone anyway. 

On the way home from Crispy Creme I decided to see if I could find the bicycle shop. One of the other trainers has offered to take me there sometime to show me its location and did say it was on one of the tributarys between the two main shopping streets so each time I'm in the area I make a point of trying to locate it. Having not found it following extensive searching I'm starting to wonder if it's not just some back-alley place that only re-sells old rusty ones about 30 years old - not really what I have in mind. Although I couldn't locate the bike shop I did notice a corner shop selling sportswear with a huge 50% discount sign plastered over the outside. I decided to go and have a look at what trainers they had. 

I looked them all over one by one and decided on a pair that were less than $100SAR that would do fine. I asked the Indian shopkeeper if he had them in my size, which he did and I tried on. For some reason though they were tiny! The Cat boots I'd bought were only a size 7 and I'd asked the man here for an 8 but in the end after trying on a few pairs it was a 9 1/2 that was the right fit. Unfortunately though there were no pairs of the particular trainer I had singles out in such a size and asking what there was the man said only Addidas. All the Addidas trainers were typically double the price of the cheaper makes but having scoped them out in Dharan they were still cheap. At $250SAR (£40) they were still quite a bargain and I when I tried them on they were justifiably more comfortable than the cheaper make so I decided to go with them. I bought a top and some long shorts along with some sports socks and walked away happy. 

There's a gym in the ITC. It's not exclusively for teachers but apparently it's very rare to find a student in there. Because somebody on the local Najima compound gym had a heart attack (I'm not sure if they survived) and was unsupervised Aramco have stated that a gym supervisor must be present at all times and thanks to this the ITC gym is now restricted to opening only after 2pm. Still though, afternoon lessons finish at 2:35pm and the teachers are not supposed to leave befor half 3 so there is an hours windown at the end of every day to spend in the gym being paid! The equipment is all pretty new and top of the range, most of it you'd find at Total fitness back home in fact. Theres changing rooms and showers with lockers and because so few people tend to make use of it (why, god only knows!) you can leave your gym kit there all week and just take it home to be washed at the weekend if you like. The best part about it though is that the other guys using it are teachers and therefore not steroid addicted idiots trying to be the next Mr Universe. There's a small free-weight section with all the dumbbells nicely stacked on the racks perfect for any normal persons requirements. As you can tell I'm made up I've discovered this little gem of a place and makes it all the better that we're actually allowed to do it in works time (not that it wouldn't be nice to have it to kill time outside work too mind...). 

So far this week then I've spend the last hour of every day in there. Sadly though I had a baptism of fire on my first visit. I decided to ease myself in on the treadmill, doing 5 minutes at 8km/hr. An American guy in his 50's was on the one next to me and the young Philipino teacher who I had made friends with on my first day was on the third. I had my ipod in so couldn't hear anything going on around me and was in my own oblivious little world plodding along. At the 5 minute mark I increased the speed to 10km/hr and then at the 15 minute mark begain increasing it toward the 15km/hr where I intended to stay for 20 minutes. The next the was the machine lost all power and came to a stop. WOndering what had happened I took my earphones out only to hear the American next to me laughing. Apparently it turns out due to the electrical supply there can't be any manchine going faster than 10km/hr if theres more than one being used at a time! As I had been increasing it I had obviously tripped the breaker. It took about 15 minutes for the gym supervisor to find a building mainenance guy and a further 10 minutes to find the reset, by which time the American had given up and gone home. Although everybody else was laughing about it I have to admit I felt a bit sheepish. 

An added bonus (and one that was beginning to be much needed!) of buying my trainers is that I now have a comfortable pair of shoes to walk around in. As I'm typically walking for about 4 hours on average, not including when I'm in work) then it was starting to take its toll on my feel whilst wearing either my safety boots or my flat soled Box-fresh shoes. My mentor had told me about another small supermarket store on the Najima compound. The first time I had gone to find it he hadn't given me specific directions and I had just gone looking. Assuming it would be on the outher edge and that I'd see if from the road I had given up when I couldn't and ended up wasting about an hour walking around. After asking him the next day I had returned following his instructions and managed to locate it no problem. It turned out it was on the compound and just to the side of the main entrance gate there is a pedestrian access through a small gate-house (where apparently there should be a guard but I've yet to meet one) where you show your Aramco ID and you are allowed through. Officially your not allowed onto the compound without an invite and Aramco ID with the exception of this commissary store, however it soon becomes clear that entering via the pedestrian entrace and leaving via the main car park exit would land you on the far side of the camp check point at which point you would be free to go about at your leisure really - not that I have any particular desire to mind. 

This commissary store was far more westernised than Panda although sadly no where near as big. It did sell several recognisable brand names though that I hadn't been abe to locate elsewhere (PG tips and Bisto gravy being the main two). I stocked up on a number of things and made my way home again. As it's on the base there is little else between it and my own apartment so the walk always feels longer than that from Panda, along which there are numerous small outlets of all varieties, but when timing it it's actually almost exactly the same distance. The big advantage though will come when I source a bicycle as the roads are quiet down to there and will therefore be a lot safer so if I get a backpack too I can cycle there for my groceries in 5 minutes each way.

Last night (Friday night) my mentor text to invite me to Crispy Creme again. I met them just after the last prayer call at about 7:20pm. We stayed and chatted for about an hour and then went back our seperate ways (Al-Suaidi camp is in the opposite direction so it's a convenient mid-point anyway). I decided to stop in at Panda on the way back as everything is open till 10pm. It was quite busy and is obviosuly a time when families come to do their weekly shop but I intended to buy a small oven as by now I was getting a bit fed up of frying chicken or cooking mince in a pan. In the end I didn't bother with the oven but did pick up a grill toaster (like a George Foreman) along with a measuring jug, drainage board, a few plastic containers for food storage and most importantly deicded to splash out the $37SAR (£6) on a folding chair like you'd find with an OAP sitting in along Blackpool front. After a decent wait in line at the till I eventually paid and walked home carrying my bulky but not heavy items. 

The chair has since been the most thankful thing I've bought. After continuously not being able to sit anwhere other than on my mattress with my legs stretched out it's an absolute god-send! All of the items I bought in fact could by that point have been classed as 'critical' despite their usually oblivious nature. Last night, whilst talking on facetime to the family I had the pleasure of making myself some jam on toast with a cup of tea and actually sitting down on my chair to eat it - brilliant!

Back to work

Sunday morning the alarm went off at 5:15am. With the best intention last night when I'd set it I turned it off and turned over again for another 5 minutes until the next one went off. 

I got out of bed and made my way through to the bathroom. I'd managed to locate a small DIY shop in town on my travels yesterday on the way back from buying my router on 'Man Street' (there are two roads running adjacent to one another nicknamed 'Man' and 'Lady' street though there is no particularly obvious reason as far as I have discovered yet) and purchased a replacement shower hose following literally ten minutes of translatory complications and the assistant handing me several different shower heads when I tried to gesticulate. Waiting for about a minute for the water to warm up I had my shower and got dressed. By now it was ten to 6. The thought of breakfast crossed my mind but realising it would only be a chocolate criossant which I could take to work I decided not to bother there and then. I made my way out the door and set off for the ITC. 

There are several different options when it comes to what route to take, each having good and bad points. On this occasion I had picked a decent enough route but ended up having to walk from one path across 20 yards of grass to another - I blamed poor planning on their part with the pathways. As I walked back up the road leading to the ITC (after having to cross what is effectively the end of the main freeway entering Ras Tanura - thank god it's not like Khobar here!) I saw an alternative entrance leading to a point inbetween the main ITC building and the portable classroom block. Daring to be bold and knowing I had time to spare I thought I might as well give it a go and potentially save myself a good 10 minutes walk to enter the ITC from where I had usually been dropped off by Ricky in the car around the back. It worked! The guard gave me a cursory glance from his hut in the middle as I walked by on the outer pedestrian pathway. 6:35am - 35 minutes then, bonus.

My mentor trainer was already there and had been since 6am along with one of the other UK trainers. who prefers to get in early and do any admin before the day starts rather than waste time he could be at home apparently. If my mentor wanted a lift from this trainer (who has been here for seven years and consequently has a car) then he has to come at that time too. 

Following the morning chit chat with me filling my mentor in on what had happened to me over the weekend (which is about as exciting as it gets apparently around here) we decided to get to work. I began to compile a document outlining each and every process within the job, whether it was for teaching, invigilating exams (which here is known as proctoring) or just getting books from the stores. Once I had compiled it with the help of my mentor I felt I had a really good grasp of what it was I was going to have to do and was ten times more comfortable about stepping into the alien environment of a classroom. We had several trips to the seating area outside with a coffee just as a means of keeping out of the way when my mentor thought we may get suddenly asked to cover a class or something and even took another trip over to see the younger UK trainer based over in the portable classrooms just to kill some time. 

We had a proctoring session at 11:40am of about 15 pupils. My mentor decided he would do the roll call and ID check and the exam administrator asked me to sweep each individual with a metal detector wand just like those in an airport - a strange experience I have to admit. Upon finishing within an hour we went back to our avoidance of anyone just to keep out the way, eventually calling it a day about 3:15pm. 

I made my way home via the same route I had used. Dropping my stuff off and a quick bathroom break I immediately headed back out the door. I'd been given very rough directions to the Caterpillar shop in town and had to buy some steel toe capped shoes. After about 15 minutes I eventually found it on one of the tributaries between Man and Lady streeet. I'd looked in the Cat shop in Dharan and seen some steel toe-capped shoes ideal for the classroom for about $250SAR but they didn't have quite the same selection and I ended up with a pair that resemble hiking boots instead. Still comfortable and a bit more expensive at $310SAR (about £50). I bought a couple of pairs of thick socks from there too and a couple of t-shirts as by now I'd run out of clean clothes. 

I headed back via Panda to pick up some more bits and bobs but typically arrived just as prayers began so gave up and went striaght home again. I decided half an hour later to venture out one last time for the evening and see about getting some washing done. I couldn't remember the exact location of the laundrette but I knew one wouldn't be hard to find here. Sure enough only a few hundred years and I noticed what was quite a large one. I entered and the man behind the counter welcomed me in. He took the bag of clothes I'd brought and immediately emptied it out on the counter. Two Saudi gentlemen walked in at this point and a discussion took place in Arabic for a couple of minutes between the shop assistant and these men with my Hugo Boss boxer shorts sitting atop a pile of clothes now strens across the shop counter. Upon finishing the conversaion the man began sorting and counting each individial item. He asked what I wanted dry cleaning and what I wanted laundering so I seperated the good things out and he resumed his tallying. 37 items in total and he handed me a slip for $114SAR (£18)! Bargain... I won't be buying a washing machine or an ironing board.

I ventured to one of the small local supermarkets for the few things I had wanted earlier from Panda and found most before returning to my apartment. It was now about half 8pm so I did a bit of blogging for a couple of hours and called it a night...

The weekend turnaround

Thankfully it was now the weekend (Friday & Saturday here). Not that it meant anything significant like it really would at home for I've yet to discover anything to do to get excited about doing even if I wasn't crippled with food poisoning (self diagnosed but confirmed by the pharmacist afterward). It did mean I could remain in the flat and even better, in bed. I know that sounds incredibly bone idle but I will point out again that I have nowhere to even sit other than the matress anyway (I am on it as I type in fact propping myself up against the wall). 

Friday was indeed a write off with again only a single venture to Panda for more basic supplies. I was still as bad as the day before with regard bathroom trips (and by now I wasn't sure where it was all coming from!) but the aches and pains had dies down which gave me hope the medication was working - or at least the one for that particular thing anyway... By Saturday morning though I felt perfectly fine again. My stomache had calmed right down and I wanted to make the most of it and get some fresh air. Conscious of having told the department head I was sorting out my flat I thought I'd go and actually try to make progress so grabbing my wallet I went on a mission.

I came back with a brand new fridge for $650SAR (just over £100) and a second hand air conditioning unit for $600SAR which I had the guys install in the kitchen. It's most likely I'll have to buy two more untis when it gets warmer but I thought I'd see how I get on with just the one for now. After they'd installed it I went back out again to go and get some fresh milk and a few other bits that I could not refrigerate (another thing I think people take for granted until they lose it). I scoured Panda as best I could (once they let me in because it was prayer time when I got there so I had to wait 20 mintues) but all I could find was a pack of 12 spoons to make do with for the time being. 

As I was leaving I had a phone call from Ricky saying he was at the apartment and had my Iqama! Such a fantasic suprise because it was my ticket back to wifi and civilisation by proxy. He drove to meet me and then dropped me off outside a store which sold routers so for $1100SAR (£190) I got a 4G router (they don't have landlines here so everything is 2G, 3G or 4G) with a 12 month unlimited SIM card. No suprise then I couldn't get it out of the box and turned on fast enough when I arrived back at the flat. 

I rang home and ended up spending hours on facetime to my Mum, Dad and Nan which really just topped off a day that had turned me right back around again. By the time I had finished, made myself spahetti bolognaise for dinner (which was lovely) and was ready to turn in for the night I was really looking forward to getting up at half 5 and going back to work again.

The low point

Having said I wasn't going in and being in near agony from stomach cramps the entire time I didn't get up and dressed until about 10am. To be honest I had no intention of getting up but for the fact that I had almost run out of water from attempting to keep hydrated and the juice I'd bought (of which there wasn't much left anyway) had got warm and I didn't fancy drinking it in case it made me worse. 

I decided I would have to venture back to Panda but ended up waiting another hour for my stomach to calm down enough for me to risk it. I had gone to have a shower but no sooner did I touch the small diverter to send the water through the shower hose and not straight down onto the floor did the plastic nut shear off rendering it useless. Just what I needed... I gave up and put it down to a run of bad luck. By this point you can imagine my feelings being in a completely alien country, having a bare aparment with only a matress and two suitcases to serve as furnishings (you really miss chairs when you don't have them you know!), feeling like death warmed up, spending the vast majority of the time sitting on a toilet seat that had not been fitted correctly and with no internet to even speak to anybody back home. Very depressing! The fact that I managed to drag myself up at all to leave the flat was clearly only out of desperation. 

Lucky I did though because on the way to Panda I noticed a huge pharmacy about the size of a small boots in the UK and went in. Looking around initially to see if I could find anything myself I soon came to the conlusion it must all be behind the counter so made my way toward the man in the lab coat. The first thing I asked (as I do with anybody here) was if he spoke English and thankfully he did very well although I assumed he probably was likely to have been educated for his pharmacy degree elsewhere anyway. I explained my symptoms and he gave me four different types of medication, painstainkly ensuring I understood the different dosages and when to take them etc. Asking me to go back on Saturday and let him know if it was better or not I agreed and paid the $100SAR (£16 ish). 

Stocking up again on snack items in Panda I also bought some mince to make a bolognaise that evening although it was only when I got home I realised I had forgotten to buy any cutlery and wouldn't be able to eat it without using my hands. 

I headed back to bed, lying there the entire day watching films I'd now seen a number of times each. I ended up having chicken noodle soup and drinking it from my solitary bowl (though to be quite fair I enjoyed it and it was easy on my stomach) before resuming my previous assignment and basically giving up on the day at that point. This, I can honestly say was the lowest point I have been since arriving here and had me genuinely second guessing my decision when coupled with the fact that it had started to sink in that I was actually now a teacher and not a trainer to all intents and purposes, something I had not really thought enough about before I got here if I'm honest. Had someone offered me the chance to go home there and then I'd probably have been sorely tempted...

The moving day

Needless to say my nights sleep wasn't brilliant waking up almost every hour either too hot or too cold. I had everything packed ready to go but it was a struggle to summon the energy. Without the elevator it would have been almost impossible I think. Three trips up and down and by the time I was done Ricky was already outside loading it into the car. 

I slept most of the way to Ras Tanura that morning. Me sleeping in a car is highly unusual but I couldn't help it. I woke up just as we pulled off the main freeway and headed into the town. Again, thankfully my new building has an elevator. We literally dumped my stuff inside one of the bedrooms and Ricky made me lock both the door to that as well as the main entrance. Pciking up another Al Hoty teacher Ricky had recognised on the way to the ITC he dropped us off and I thanked him for all his help over the last few days. I asked the other trainer, who taught English, how long it took him to walk as from the point we spotted him he must live nearby. 25 minutes he told me, though right before chatting to Ricky about going to Bahrain the week before to compete in a half marathon.

I'd perked up a bit after my sleep and some of the aches and pains in my joins had died down but I still wasn't right at all. I mentioned being a bit under the weather to Tony and he sympathised though the last thing I wanted to do was create the wrong impression by playing a dying fly routine. He had his group to babysit again in the afternoon so we killed the morning wandering around the buildings and running errands for a couple of other trainers. Not having my login still there wasn't much I could do. After lunch I decided enough was enough and asked the department head if he minded me going to sort out some things to do with the flat like he had offered to let me do. I left the ITC on foot, deciding to walk rather than go through the hassle of finding someone who knew a taxi number and spending the $20SAR, at about 13:00 and eventually got back home in writhing agony from needing the toilet at 13:45... Clearly there was a shortcut to be had but I would have to locate it another time when I could afford mistakes. 

I spent the afternoon asleep on the floor wrapped up in the comforter I had bought the night before thankfully. About half three I made a brave call to venture to find the Panda supermarket (again on foot) which resulted in about an extra mille of detours from incorrect geographical calculations on my part - it really is a pain not being able to whip out my iPhone and use maps! Finding it eventually I decided to start stocking up on some basic requirements. The apartment didn't have a cooker for a start so I ended up buying a cheap two ring hotplate. Also a mop and bucket, brush, and a few snacky items being acutely aware that I still had no fridge. 

Being all to bulky to carry home I asked the Indian guys at the counter if they would ring me a taxi and forewent the $10SAR (£1.60) for the journey home. 5pm came and went with no sign of my matress and by half 5 I was starting to become mildly concerned that I would be spending the whole night wrapped in my comorter! Eventually, about 6:15pm though the phone rang and a delivery guy yelled a lot of Arabic. Trying to explain that I spoke English and couldn't speak Arabic (in English which it turned out he didn't speak so was completely useless) I managed to get 'Riyad ATM' and assumed he was there. Sure enough looking out the window over to the drive through ATM (yes they have them here as well as drive through coffee shops) across the way was a van I assumed to be them. Eventually making it over to them I jumped in and directed them where to go exactly and they kindly insisted on carrying it all the way up the two floors and into position in the bedroom for me (no doubt the $20SAR tip made it worthwhile). 

Ripping off the plastic on the top but not underneath and fitting the sheet I settled down with a film on. Unfortunately though an almost continuous requirement to go to the bathroom ruined my entire evening and by the end I had text Tony to say that I wasn't going to work and if the head asks to let him know I was sorting my flat out still. 

Another night of feverish chills feeling run down and having to get up for the bathroom every half hour made me thankful I did...

Take the rough with the smooth...

I may have to keep the next few posts closer to a timeline of events than I've previously done so far, purely because I'm currently writing almost a week behind my experiences and I'm starting to feel that I may not doing them as much justice as if they were still fresh in my mind with nothing to supercede them.

Tuesday started again with a half 5 alarm finally dragging me out of bed to get ready in time for my 6 o'clock pickup from the hotel. We made the journey without incident again thankfully and I was in the ICT by quarter to 7. This time as soon as I walked in and said hello my Philipino teacher friend from the day before came over and took me to be introduced to two other English trainers who had not been around previously for me to meet. My new desk cubicle was next to them so I sat down and introduced myself. 

One of them had a class to teach and apparently is almost permanently based over in whats known as the portable area - a group of classrooms on the far side of the campus away from the main ITC building. The description conjures up thoughts of fitted out statics but in contrast these are permanent buildings properly kitted out with the same facilities as every other. It's simply a remote village and for some a chance to keep out the way of any department head or senior trainer that may decide to pop in on a lesson to check on the students.

The other trainer had no class of his own that day, only two periods of 'babysitting' somebody elses in the afternoon. Once everyone else had left and it was just the two of us he asked me what I'd been through already, was I settled with accommodation, and a number of other questions to get a feel for what I might need in the way of information he could provide me to help. Almost every question I had been dying to find somebody to ask he answered one after the other without me having to utter a word. Having only arrived less than a year ago himself he was completely sympathetic to my situation. As I said I'm trying to keep this relatively short and sweet and also have to be careful what I include from now on for public consumption but I could not with all the time and words in the world explain to you what a difference this made to me. Back home I would have gone straight out and bought him a crate of beer or taken him out for a fancy meal just as a thank you but unfortunately that's not an option around here and I'm as yet even stuck for an appropriate token of appreciation. 

In the course of him taking me over to meet the third and final English trainer I happened to ask him how long his intention to say was and it was then he sprang the unfortunate news on me that he was to be leaving in a matter of a few weeks. He'd been offered a similar job elsewhere on the same money but with a better rotation cycle allowing him to travel home more frequently to see his wife. While obviously I could understand the reasoning I was really disappointed having just discovered this font of knowledge who put me so at ease. 

Nevertheless on we go... We met the other trainer who was at least 10 years younger than the other two (who are both mid to late 50's). This guy had worked on a refinery near Essex that had closed down and he had effectively been cornered into applying and taking the job here following his redundancy despite having to leave his wife and two young children. His cockney accent amused me and he was a really down to earth character. Clearly this pair were good friends both inside the ITC and out, both choosing to live on the Al-Suwaidi camp that I had refused (though they had no problems with my analysis of the place and in who's defence are actually only paying $3000SAR a month as it turns out the prices were very recently increased in anticiaption of a new batch of recruits of which I am only the first). I immediately began to hope that as my newly aquired mentor leaves that I may find an alternative ally here instead and sure enough just as the thought went through my head he iterated exactly the same sentiment. 

We left our compatriot to get back to the lesson he was teaching and went and occupied an empty classroom down the way spending the next couple of hours discussing backgrounds in the industry (his remarkedly similar to mine despite the age difference) and the pragmatic version of how this whole training facility operates. We went through how to use the smart boards which, to be fair, wasn't the most challenging thing, and then headed back to the staff room again. After lunch he had his group to babysit and said there was no point me being there as a witness becuase he wasn't actually teaching so I sat reading through my manual again until it was time for Ricky to come and pick me up. 

All in all, compared with what I'd experienced up to now, this day so far had been an incredible breath of fresh air. It had now become clear than unlike my experiences back in the UK where there are those willing to help but also those who wish to keep information to themselves to increase their own value, expats (or certainly not those within the walls of Ras Tanura ITC Block A anyway) are purely of the same selfless breed with an unwritten mantra that you will do as much for the next guy as you possibly can. At least this is the impression I have from the guys I have met so far (all nationalities included), My Philipino trainer friend had done his best the day before and been a big help but being younger than me even was clearly still finding his feet with the whole teaching thing anyway and no doubt this is what I will be like when the next guy arrives if I have to field his questions. Todays information though had put me much more at ease about my outlook on the place - sadly I cannot say much more without giving details that may get myself and perhaps even others in trouble. 

Ricky rang to say he was here so I went out to meet him. The last of the students were leaving and the rush was now over so it was a bit easier getting out of the place. We headed to the rental office to collect the keys (which we did after a 10 minute wait) and went to inspect it. Almost all the fittings that were missing the previous day were now in place and the carpets in the bedrooms (which were dirty and had me budgeting for a vacuum cleaner) were removed leaving brand new tiles underneath. To be honest had they been clean I'd have preferred the carpets... 

There were a couple of sockets still to put up in one of the bedrooms but that was not much. We went back to the accommodation office and settled the balance of what I'd agreed to pay at that point. Ricky then took me to the bed store. Unusually, the man behind the counter was not very good at English so Ricky did most the talking in Arabic and translated again where required. It was $750SAR for a basic double-mattress and $900SAR for the more expensive option, and the frame (without headboard) would be another $650SAR. Not particularly liking the look of the bed anyway I decided to follow Rickys advice and just opt for a matress (the basic one) for now and perhaps have a look around for bed frames later when I was more settled. Unfortunately the delivery guys weren't working that day and so we ended up arranging for it to be delivered the following evening at 5pm, giving me time to get back there after work. Obviously now having an apartment with a bed (despite nothing else) I no longer needed to stay in the Khobar hotel as of the following day and as we made our way back Ricky and I agreed that we would leave half an hour earlier the following mornining with my cases to drop them off at the apartment on the way to the ITC - from that point on I'd be on my own!

Unfortunately that last point couldn't have started at a worse time. After going over to the Carrefour in the Rashid mall for the last time and buying several necessities such as a comforter (duvet back home), pillows, pans, tin opener and one or two other essentials I did my usual run to the food court and took it back to my room. Once again I was worn out from the running around, though not quite as bad as the night before, and decided to eat my Burger King whilst watching a film in bed. 

I got half way through my meal and found my stomache doing somersaults and me feeling as though I had been hit by the flu. I couldn't get warm despite being in thick sweat pants and hoodie with socks on too. Shivering from chills yet clearly hot and feverish I knew this wasn't good. Only as I was forced to the bathroom and tried to stand up again afterwards did the severity of what was happening kick in as I began to feel light headed and found myself heading for the tiled floor. Only the harrowing thought that were I to pass out now I wouldn't be discovered by anyone until at least morning when Ricky came for me kept me from losing conciousness at that point as I told myself I had to stay awake and make it back to bed. It crossed my mind to call for a doctor but I would never have had the energy to make it to the hotel lobby and I didn't actually know the number for Saudi emergency services! (It's something that I have been told probably two or three times in both literature I read before arriving here and in my orientation with Al-Hoty to be honest but strangely something that I had not chosen to commit to memory stupidly... For those who need to know from now on: 997 for ambulance). 

I made it back to bed anyway and spent a very uncomfortable night going in feverish chills...

Ras Tanura - Day 1

Apologies to those who've been reading this blog. Unfortunately since leaving Al Khobar on Wednesday morning I've not had access to wifi to upload any more entries.

I'd originally intended not to write anything for the Sunday anyway as it was yet more of exactly what you'd already read about and I'd run out of interesting things to say about the Rashid mall and Starbucks. 

Monday, in stark contrast, was my first day in Ras Tanura at the ITC (Industrial Training Centre). I was told on the Sunday that I would be picked up at 6am to be driven there, whist Serban and John were getting picked up at 5:15am to go to Al Mubarraz two hours away in the opposite direction. We made a point of saying our goodbyes and wishing each other luck on the Sunday evening, promising to keep in touch every now and again to compare experiences. 

Al Hoty had said the two of them would be moving to a hotel close to their ITC because of it being such a long drive and that I would remain in Khobar until I'd found somewhere in Ras Tanura to live. Despite this I didn't want to be caught out in case the driver turned up and asked me where my cases were or anything so I decided to pack everything up ready to go just in case. As it turned out I needn't had bothered but it gave me peace of mind. It was Ricky who picked me up, one of the Al Hoty drivers who'd ferried us around a number of times already so it was nice to have the company of someone who I vaguely knew for the 45 minute drive given that it was the two of us now. As we made our way along the highway the typically idiotic drivers were as usual living up to expectations. The three lane road occasionally managed to turn into five at some points, the result of impatience but mainly caused by idiots sitting in lanes they ought not to be... (Something that particularly winds me up back in the UK but here it's another level of ignorance and stupidity!) Not two minutes after Ricky had informed me that we would be lucky if we didn't see an accident each time we made this trip (his actual words were we would be unlucky not to see one but I thought that a bit sadistic really and hoped it was a translation thing rather than him enjoying the sight of them) we saw a car on it's roof on the opposite carridgeway. Ricky said it couldn't have been there long because otherwise there'd be queues both ways with people on both sides wanting to take a look. Thankfully we were able to carry on without really slowing down. 

As we turned off for Ras Tanura the traffic died down quite considerably. We arrived at the ITC just before 7am and Ricky handed me an envelope with a name and a number on it and said that was who we needed to contact. The building was just what you'd expect of a typical school, not very tall (only two storeys) and spread out over quite an area. There were four reasonably sized columns within a rig to the side which I assumed were for the purposes of practical teaching like I had done myself at TTE all those years ago. On the opposite side of the road was an airfield although when I say 'airfield' what I mean is more like mini airport. Something similar to Mona on Anglesey but with a proper Terminal building. Ricky said this was ARAMCOs private airport, at which point half a dozen helicopters came into view all with ARAMCO decals. My obvious thought was that any company with a private air fleet can't be bad to work for. 

*Note: Just to let you know that from here on I'll be intentionally avoiding using the names of any of the personnel I come into contact with to protect them from being associated directly with anything written in this blog that they may not wish to have publicised. Up until now the subjects have been personal contacts and Al-Hoty staff but the vast majority will now be associated with my employment inside ARAMCO and I'm aware that they have confidentiality policies which I do not wish to breach either myself or on anybody elses behalf*

Ricky rang the number of our contact but got no answer. We parked the car and walked through the turnstile. I was expecting to have to get my ARAMCO ID badge out to show to someone but apparently not. We headed for the nearest entrance point of the building we could find. As we entered, all I noticed around me were the typical decorations of any secondary school. Students awards, certificates and photographs for extra curricular activities covered the walls. The building was split into six blocks, A to F. Block B was apparently administration where we were likely to find our contact according to a very helpful man who turned out to be the school principle. As we walked along the corridors trying to find out way around I began to notice the diversity of the people around me. Philipino, English, American, Canadian, South African, Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Indian and of course Saudi men all roamed the halls. Obviously there wasn't a female in sight. Eventually we managed to locate who we were looking for. He was a Philipino who used to be an operator trainer but had moved over to HR. He asked if I'd sorted out my accomodation and was I staying in the Al-Suwaidi camp. I told him no and Ricky explained that we had arrived straight from Khobar. He suggested that I report to the Operations department head and then go and get sorted with accomodation. 

He took me down to block A which is for Operations and Heallth & Safety and introduced me to the Senior Trainer at which point Ricky decided he would leave to go and give one of the other trainers their Iqama which he had to deliver before going back to the office in Khobar. He told me to ring him when I was finished and ready to be picked up. The department manager wasn't in yet and wouldn't be arriving until about 10am so for the time being I took a seat and introduced myself to a young Philipino teacher. I had hundreds of questions both about the job and about how to go about getting myself sorted with my accomodation etc but didn't want to come across as burdensome though he was more than happy to help me however he could. After getting me cup of coffee (which was awful) he told me lived in the town with two other Philipinos and shared the rent and bills working out to about $1000SAR a month each (£160). He said that the material wasn't complicated in the slightest and gave me a brief overview of what we was teaching that afternoon. After being here 7 months now he's teaching whats called 'BOC - Basic Operators Course'. The most challenging part of the job, as for any teacher wherever I'd imagine, is the students themselves. Although they are between 17 and 20, they have the mental ages of early teens wanting to spend most their class time playing games on their mobiles or sleeping. There are good and bad pupils he said, but the bad outweigh the good by a significant margin (no doubt this all sounds very familiar to some of you reading this who are teachers elsewhere...).

The day is split up into 40 minute periods with a 50 minute lunch break. Each trainer is scheduled for either a morning or afternoons teaching only with the rest of the day for lesson prep (which is all done for you already). If a teacher has to teach for a whole day (and this bit will undoubtedly wind up any teachers back home) then they get paid and additional 4 hours overtime at time and a half, despite the fact that they haven't actually worked a single extra hour. Even to me that sounds ridiculous but who am I to complain?

Throughout the hour or so I sat talking to my new friend numerous other trainers came up and kindly introduced themselves. Unfortunately I'm not good with names at the best of times but when some are names I can barely pronounce, it's even more difficult. No doubt time will be my ally in getting to remember them. Eventually the department head entered and I was taken to be introduced. He took the form the Al Hoty office had asked me to get signed by him stating I had officially reported for work. He asked me if I had set myself up in Al-Suwaidi and suggested that I take the morning to sort that out. Ringing Ricky to ask him to take me there clearly came as a bit of a suprise and I think may have disrupted his plans at that particular point in time but I got the impression his mandate was to do whatever I needed and he agreed to meet me in the car park. 

The Al-Suwaidi camp was only 10 minutes drive away from the ITC. We turned into the entrance where a guard sat in a car on his mobile phone not even glancing up to look at us before we arrived at a barrier. Another guard came out and immediately seeing me, raised it to allow us in. We pulled through and parked the car outside the office. The place was comprised of about 4 rows of about thirty or so reasonable sized static caravans like you'd find on a typical camp site in Rhyl - although none of them had windows bigger than 2 foot square, unusually for statics where you normally have a bay window at the front. Initially the thought of paying the £500 a month I'd been told before I arrived in Saudi for rental of a static caravan seemed a lot especially given their condition on the outside but I decided it best to reserve judgement until I'd seen one from within. Ricky spoke to the man in the office as we went in who confirmed they still had avilability and that the price was $150SAR a night, working out to $4650 for 31 days. Immediately I had to grab my iPhone and use the currency converter to check my maths but sure enough it worked out to £750 a month. I thought for this amount they better be nice inside!

They weren't... As the man opened the door to the 'show home' next to his office we stepped into a small corridor with one door straight ahead and one either end. I immediately assumed the door to the right would be the bedroom, the middle section the bathroom and the front the living area - pretty standard layout for most static caravans. Alas, I was mistaken yet again. It turned out each of the statics has been sectioned off to accommodate three people in each! As we went through the door on the left we entered a room with a single bed, a chest of drawers with a TV on it (the TV does not come with the room) and on the far side, a kitchenette with cooker and fridge in one corner and a tiny bathroom in the other. As if the lack of space was bad enough by itself the dark brown carpet, light brown curtains and sand coloured walls just created one of the most depressing environments you could imagine. I barely managed to nod and give a solemn 'OK' as the office man enquired as to what I thought. I asked about what the amenities on the camp were and if he would show me, thinking that perhaps at least the gym and the swimming pool I'd heard about might be tempting enough to put up with the dire accomodation, however they weren't. The 15 meter pool didn't look inviting at all with its green astro-turf surroundings missing pieces randomly and the gym was in a state of disrepair with the equipment being the cheap end of what you'd find in the Argos catalogue. There was a tennis court that looked ok but having tennis elbow I wouldn't be using it much anyway. The man tried to convince me with one final attempt, showing me the 'resteraunt' which was $15SAR (about £2) a meal but this was just like a school canteen and just made me less inclined. We walked back to the office and I politely asked the man for his contact details out of courtesy and said I would be in touch later after I had looked around at all the options, fully intending never to go back unless desperate!

Ricky took me to the other camp called Tahimi which was just across the road from Al-Suwaidi. This was pretty much the same but was more expensive and didn't have any amenities because of its intention to serve as a family camp for those bringing wives and children here apparently. Consequently the statics I assume must not be segregated and each family has a whole one to themselves although there were only about thirty in total here. There was nobody in the office though and the whole place just seemed like a depressing run-down camp site so I said to Ricky we'll leave and I'll stay in the Khobar hotel until I find something else after talking more with the people in the office. I knew he wouldn't mind the drive because he'd already said that once I moved he wouldn't be getting the overtime for the early mornings anymore. 

As we drove away from the camp Ricky pointed out a building with an SABB (Saudi Arabia British Bank - a subsidiary of HSBC) at the bottom. He said the teacher whom he had brought the Iqama for had moved into an apartment at the back last week for $1500SAR a month. We decided to drive around there and saw a 'For Rent' advert. We pulled in and Ricky rang the number. Somebody answered but only to say that the office was now closed until 4pm. Given the likelihood of everything else now being closed and Ricky having other things to do today I suggested he take me back to the ITC for now and we try again later. 

Back at the ITC I told the department head that I'd looked at the camps and that I'd decided to try again later. He seemed confused as to why I hadn't just moved in already but thankfully didn't bother questioning me about it. He took me for a tour of the building right the way through all six blocks, introducing me to every person in sight as we went. For the life of me I couldn't remember a single persons name that we came across now. He introduced me to the principle, the two vice-principles, the test administration department and every department head. There are the trade departments (Operations, Health & Safety, Electrical, Instruments, Mechanical and Metallurgy) and there are the academic departments comprising of English, Maths and Science. As you can imagine there were a lot of introductions all in the space of about an hour. 

Upon returning to the Operations staff room he instructed an elderly Philipino man in overalls to find me a desk cubicle. The elderly man found me a place next to another trainer from the UK and called me over. This elderly man is basically a departmental caretaker, emptying bins, making sure the tea and coffee doesn't run out and generally doing any menial chores that needs doing - like finding me a desk. He only speaks a few words of English so communication is generally done with gestures but he seems really nice and is always smiling. I sat down at my desk and was given the first unit of the BOC to look through by the department head. He said he didn't really have anything for me to do this week and that if I needed to take any time to sort out accommodation or anything then I should make the most of this week and come and go as needed so that I was ready to begin my orientation the following week. 

The senior trainer approached me not 10 minutes later and said he would take me around for a tour. I politely told him that the department head had already done so, at which point he pondered for a moment and then said he'd take me anyway. I got the distinct impression giving me a tour was merely his excuse for something to do. He didn't really take me too far, just up and down the corridor in fact at first, pointing out the posters on the wall which laid out the apprenticehip timetable. To be honest it was quite confusing as it depends on their English ability as to where they start and whether or not they need more time to get it up to scratch. At least this gave me some confidence that their English would actually be comprehendable. We walked upstairs to the staff room of the academic department above ours who have the keys to the non-Arabic bathrooms. I didn't want to ask what the difference was exactly so I just took it as him saying if I need the bathroom I have to come and get the key from here first. 

We made it back to the staff room just in time for the head to ask if I had been shown the canteen, which I hadn't. He invited me to join him and the senior trainer which I obviously felt I had no choice in accepting. It was a typical school canteen with two lines converging from either side along a hot food bar followed by cakes, fruits and drinks. I was told that it didn't really matter what you had, the price was always about $15SAR. The head kindly paid for the meals, pointing out that it was a one-off introductory thing and we sat down and ate. I had chosen the chicken, which was quite bland but not bad and came with a mountain of rice. I had a piece of rasberry sponge which was lovely and a banana. Overall it was acceptable but I couldn't see myself going back given the choice. 

When we had finished he told me to ring Ricky to ask him to pick me up as soon as he could but unfortuantely he was tied up and wouldn't be able to make it back until half 2 that afternoon. I ended up killing time by browsing through the BOC folder I'd been given as everyone else was out of the office. It was quite a struggle if I'm honest. After getting up at half 5 and having quite a lot go on that morning I could barely keep my eyes open! Needless to say then I didn't really get much of it read and was more conscious of being caught nodding off than I was about taking in what I was studying. Thankfully Ricky eventually rang to say he was outside although by this time the end of the final period had just arrived. I know as a teacher I'm supposed to be some kind of authority figure with the students but being my first day it was definately me who was intimidated. As I approached the mass of bodies all waiting to exit through two turnstiles joined the back of the queue. A couple of the students had lit cigarettes and had become conscious that the smoke was blowing in my direction so moved (I assumed that they were allowed to) but apart from that most were so focused on their own escape they barely paid any attention to mine. Taking my sunglasses out of my bag and opening the case I dropped the cloth, however before I could do anything it made it's way into the masses and I quickly decided it was a lost cause. Making it through the turnstile at last Ricky was stood on the car sill waiving at me. By now though there was an inevitable traffic jam and it was a good 10 minutes before we even managed to reverse out of the space. 

Ricky knew where the office was for the accommodation agency so we headed straight there. It was still only half 3 now and it didn't open till 4. We decided to sit and wait in the car. Eventually a Sudanese man came and unlocked the office door. We went in and Ricky spoke to him about the accommodation. I really didn't have the first clue what they were on about. They were speaking in Arabic and even trying to read the body language and gestures I still couldn't work it out. Ricky eventually said he was going to show us the place so we all got in the Al-Hoty car and made our way across town. Driving past the building Ricky had said the other trainer was in, we pulled up outside another similar apartment building. I wasn't particularly keen on the surrounding area, much of it half finished building projects and was immediately put off if I'm honest but the Sudanese man pointed out that there were two other trainers living there currently. As we went up the stairs to the second floor we turned left and into the apartment. It was considerably nicer than I had come to expect of Saudi buildings by now. There was a decent sized bedroom with a kitchen & dining room and a typically average bathroom as you'd expect from a dwelling of this size. I wasn't sure if it was new or just hadn't been lived in for a while but either way there was a lot of dust and it needed a good clean. I asked how much it was and the man said $15,000SAR for the year. Immediately that seemed an attractive price compared with Al-Suwaidi, but Ricky pointed out that the other guy he knew was paying $18,000SAR a year for a two bedroom place. I asked if there was anything closer to the ITC and the man said only two bedroom. Asking how much they were he confirmed that a two bedroom would only be another $3,000SAR a year more so I asked him to show me. We made our way right back across the town again almost to where we had started. Around the corner from the office was another apartment block which we pulled up outside. We got out and entered. This one had an elevator to take us up to the second floor. We entered the apartment which was considerably larger than the first. There were two bedrooms of equal size, each similar dimensions as the bedroom in the first apartment. The bathroom was slightly bigger thought still had the same sink, toilet, bidet and shower, but the kitchen area was huge in comparison and could easily accommodate both a dining room table and a sofa is desired. Looking out of the two bedrooms there was quite a bit of space on each side with no adjacent buildings on either and there was a walled sports complex just over the other side of the road. An intersection between two reasonable sized roads was about 100 yards from the corner of the building but given the layout of the streets here that would be true of almost any building and Khobar had taught me that there is zero consideration given of a night time to those who are sleeping when it comes to noise, especially car horns. All in all then I decided that for a mere £485 more a year this was far better and told the Sudanese man I would take it. 

There were a number of outstanding things to be done such as socket covers and bathroom hoses that needed finishing but I was assured they would be put right and we could pick up the keys after I finish work the following day. I paid $240SAR (£38) for 12 months water rates (imagine that back in the UK!) and gave a $500SAR deposit for an electricity meter which apparently I get back once it's installed (the logic was lost on me with that one). With the agencys commission I would have to pay $4500SAR when I collected the keys with an agreement to return and pay another $3000SAR on the 1st Feb totalling $7500SAR covering the setting up and initial 4 months rent.

By this time it was half 5 and Ricky was supposed to be picking some Philipino trainers up from the Dharan training centre so feeling enough was enough for one day we headed back, stopping to collect them on route back to Khobar. By the time I was dropped off it was gone half past 6 and I just wanted to go straight to bed. I dumped my bag in my room and immediately headed straight back out the door for fear of my falling asleep if I sat down. I went over to the mall and ordered a take away to take back to the hotel. I didn't particularly feel like sitting alone at a table to eat surrounded by dozens of other parties. I ate my meal and then decided to ring Serban and John to see how they were getting on. Serban said they had found accommodation for $2500SAR a month after seeing the camp and deciding it wasn't to their liking, much like I had. They had wifi already set up in the building luckily and there was another Romanian who had a car and had agreed to take them to and from their ITC for $250SAR a month so all in all they were doing well. John basically told me what Serban had said but with his amusing Welsh accent it came across a more enigmatic tale. Either way it was nice to hear from them both while I was sat in the hotel again on my own. 

Despite the fact it was only half 7 by now I decided to give up fighting and have an early night. Ricky was coming again at 6 meaning another half 5 alarm clock...

Hurry up and wait...

I managed to get up a bit earlier yesterday. Having set my alarms for 9, 9:30 and 10:15am I still slept through them all but they disturbed me sufficiently to cause me to stir around 10:45. I figured the other two wouldn't be getting up for at least another hour and headed over to Starbucks for a morning coffee, something that has for now become a bit of a routine. 

Outside was back to normal levels of traffic and chaos in the immediate area outside the mall. The vehicular access and egress really isn't designed fit for purpose. It's all very well and good using an American template but clearly nobody considered the cultural differences between the two countries consequently leading to numerous cars fighting their way to a 20 yard section of kerb outside each gate exit to pick up one of the many women who have to be chauffered around either by a family member or a driver. The women don't seem to be allowed to walk beyond the immediate gate area and therefore cannot cross the car park to meet their car. This queue inevitably backs up right onto the road, ensuring further chaos in both directions. On most occasions when we observe from the lobby or when actually going to the mall there is at least one police vehicle ineffectively attempting to assist in keeping things moving - for this challenge I do not envy them.

About an hour after getting my coffee and heading back to the room to chill out and catch up online Serban rang me to ask if I was going to Starbucks. Although I still hadn't yet made it through half of the one I'd not long bought I decided that with nothing else to do I might as well make the most of every opportunity to get out of the hotel and agreed to meet him. I text John to let him know we were going and he said he'd just got up so would meet us in the lobby shortly. We had our coffees (I decided to have an English Breakfast tea which was lovely) and Serban suggested we get a taxi and go to the other mall we'd been to a few nights ago just for a change of scenery. There was a big resteraunt right opposite IKEA that he liked the idea of trying, despite the fact that we had been no closer than at least 200 yards as we'd seen it and had no idea what kind of resteraunt it was other than the fact it said 'Resteraunt & Grill' on the side in big neon lettering. Anyway, again in absence of anything else to do we agreed and headed there. We negotiated the taxi down to $20SAR (it is only a 5 minute trip anyway) and made our way there. Dropping us off outside the mall we walked toward the resteraunt which had remained pretty non-descript from the outside. Carefully negotiating the different entrances for singles and families we entered only to discover it was an Applebys steak house (an American chain for those UK readers that don't watch many American sit-coms).

The pictures of the steaks on the menu looked amazing, especially given our diet up until that point. On average they were about $95SAR (£17) and so about three times the price of our usual fast food meals so far but if it was as good as it looked then it would be worth it. I'd honestly put it at a standard similar to what you'd expect to find from somewhere like TGI Friday back home etc, or any half decent typical big chain resteraunt but John genuinely thought it was 'a la carte' despite the surroundings. Serban and I had looked at eachother with confusion when he said it but decided to let him maintain his satisfaction.

I ordered a 12oz with mushroom sauce (entertaining myself briefly by wondering if I was back home and left half of it would Kirk scrape the sauce off to eat the juicy steak or would it be too contaminated by that point - I decided he'd leave it) and opted for mashed potato. It was heavenly! The steak was cooked to perfection - medium rare - and the creamy mash was amazing after so many chips over the week so far. On the whole definately worth the money! Only when it came to ordering a drink did it provide a stark reminder where we where. Up until that point, within the confines of Applebys, we could have been anywhere in the world but when the waiter asks you what you want to drink with your steak dinner at 4pm and you look to the bar, suddenly remembering why there are no taps on top of it do you find yourself longing for what you can no longer have. Just the habit really but it didn't feel nice at that particular moment I have to admit - the first time I wished I could have had a beer since I left the UK. Despite this minor set-back both John and I thanked Serban for bringing us despite his own obliviousness to what we would find. 

After finishing our meals and having a good walk around this new section of mall we hadn't ventured to previously (which included a Giant Panda hypermarket that put the huge Carrefour to shame - Tesco, Asda and Sainsburys back home will from now on be viewed in a different light) we headed back the hotel and to our rooms.

After being quite content watching films on the iPad and attempting to make progress with my Arabic studies in my sweat pants and hoodie it took some effort to get changed again when John wanted to go to the mall for dinner. A good 5 hours had passed since our meal by this time but I still wasn't particularly hungry. I went anyway and rang Serban, who had already given up on us assuming we weren't bothering and was in the mall browsing having had his dinner already. He agreed to meet us in the food court. After a Burger King which left me uncomfortably full despite leaving most the chips and regretting the whole endeavour we headed for Carrefour. John was still clinging onto some semblence of normality from back home by drinking non-alcoholic beer (which I'd tried and decided was pointless and to just accept fate, opting for nicer tasting fruit juices instead) and he needed to re-stock. On the way I stopped at a few places to look at trainers which I still needed to buy, but decided against it at that point because I wouldn't be going running around here and exercising in the room wasn't going to do me much good without being able to warm up with a jog first anyway. I bought a few coloured Uni-Ball pens for making notes with during my Arabic endeavours in the Carrefour (stopping Serban buying too much in the way of stationary assuring him that they would hopefully provide at least the basic necessities) and we headed back to the hotel. 

Serban wasn't quite ready to surrender the evening to his room just yet so I agreed to grab a coffee and sit outside on the step of the hotel lobby to make the most of the fresh air. After discussing a number of trivial topics of no consequence to anybody whatsoever and finishing our lattes (which Serban had decided to try on my advice instead of his usual double espresso shot given that he'd complained about not being able to sleep every night so far) we turned in for the evening...

The room day

Yesterday I hadn't bothered setting an alarm, not going to sleep until the early hours of the morning and definately not having anything to do apart from browse the mall and eat. I eventually woke up at half 11 (roughly the same time as the day before - must be a pattern emerging). After a shower and texting John and Serban I sat typing away until John was ready and the pair of us headed over to the mall, agreeing to meet Serban in Starbucks. 

As we went outside we noticed there was a distinct lack of traffic. Being a Friday and therefore holy day in Islam I suppose it made some sense but unlike back in the UK the difference here was vast. We walked straight across the road which we had never managed to do before. The car park, in which there were usually cars queued up back onto the road at all times was only about a quarter full. Pondering the implications for what we might find inside we ventured in. There were a few people around but not many. Everywhere was already closed with thankfully the exception of the food court. As we approached Starbucks it was in darkness though. Next door to it was a Cinnabon, a different variation on the coffee shop theme that was open. It seemed strange that one of them should be open yet not the other but we just wanted coffee and a seat to wait for Serban. We figured he'd find us there with the lack of other people around and proceeded. 

Eventually he did, but by which time Starbucks had re-opened again as if just being on temporary hiatus during prayers. We hadn't heard the call at all so had already ruled that out a potential reason for its closure but evidence now suggested we were wrong. John and I were finished anyway and Serban preferred Starbucks and wanted to go there so moved across to what were admittedly far more confortable seats at least.

Following another trip to the food hall which, on this occasion led to me giving up and going for KFC, I wanted to head to Carrefour. We'd been to another two malls the previous night prior to dinner (which I forgot to mention yesterday) and both John and I had bought 'Arabic for Dummies' so I wanted a legal pad to make notes with. 

[Just to fill you in, the first mall we went to was about 500 yards away at the end of the street but required a detour of an additional 500 in order to cross the main road in a safe place with crossings and turned out to be a ladies mall full of dress shops, shoe shops, handbag shops and jewellery shops. No one was standing at the entrance and there were no signs to say we weren't allowed to enter so we'd just entered having assumed from the outside it was something similar to the Rashid mall. Obviously we soon left upon realising our error... 

To get to the other mall we'd had to get a taxi, much to Serbans disappointment. It was only $30SAR Riyals but he'd bartered the driver down to $25SAR (a saving of about 90p) just to make hinself feel better more than anything. He hadn't considered the implications of this on splitting the fare three ways. The driver who took us there asked us how long we would be and gave John (who had jumped in the front seat) his number, insisting on taking Johns also, and telling us to ring him when we wanted picking up. As we approached we began to appreciate the sheer size of it. We'd noticed it on the trip to the ARAMCO ID centre, but only took a cursory glance making a mental note in case we'd wanted to go there. Now we were paying attention we could barely believe this was a single entity. We pulled up to gate 5, agreeing to ring the taxi driver whe we were done and wandered in - John actually got a phone call from him later after we'd already returned with one of the many taxis outside the mall anyway wondering why we hadn't called. Being Thursday evening it was pretty busy compared but the size of it dispersed it's population quite well. The outlets were obviously more varied here than the Rashid mall but strangely, whereas elsewhere the high end brands had all been grouped in the same area, these were intermingled. There were still no 'cheap' places of course. Names likle Next, Claires, Accessorise, Monsoon, Hugo Boss, Calvin Klein, M&S were the run of the mill with more than a fair few fancy jewellery stores thrown into the mix. We wandered in and out of the maze of corridors doing our best not to miss too much out, stopping in a couple of shops just for a browse as you do. I bought a new cap for $50SAR but that was it. Serban had become obsessed with tracking down a place that would have Sony speakers for his tablet and ended up asking someone, only to find the place he was told was about 200 yards away, requiring us to cross the main road with no crossing point. 

I'm still not sure about the do's and dont's when it comes to crossing roads to be honest. You see very few people on the street anyway, everyone drives probably doe to the price of fuel at 55 halalas (8p) a litre, but those that are just jump across wherever suit no matter what. Given the driving around here I'm nervous of being wiped out when walking on the pavement, let alone crossing the road. In America (on which the road system here is obviously based) it's illegal in a lot of places to cross without a crossing. Unfortunately here there seem to be very few crossings and I assume that if the driving doesn't particularly concern the police here then a few people running across the road wont either.

We made it across alive, though it took Serban a few minutes longer. We realised at that point that the huge mall we had already been in was only one half of it and we had now reached the other. This side was less clothes etc and more electronics and a massive Panda hypermarket. The Jarir bookstore Serban was in search of was right in front of and wen went in. John and I decided to let Serban go and play while we browsed all the usual products we had no intention of buying. John had been on about learning Arabic too so I suggested we go upstairs where the books where to see if there was one for him. Having located 'Arabic for Dummies' we both decided to purchase a copy and headed for the till. By this time we were a bit fed up of wandering around and decided to wait for Serban outside the store. After coming out empty handed complaining about the lack of things he wanted and the price of the ones he didn't anyway we headed back...]

After Carrefour I headed back to the hotel. I had arranged to speak to the Grandparents on facetime and spent a few hours catching up with them and filling them in on what I'd been doing as they hadn't been shown yet how to access the blog. It was nice to catch up and see them all again and made the distance between here and home seem inconsequential for a while. 

John had decided he wanted to go swimming at the Crown Plaza hotel which we had passed on the way to the ladies mall but I decided to pass, preferring instead to stay in the room and catch up with my tales on here (it is quite time consuming). I finished and read a couple of chapters of the Arabic for Dummies before he rang me on his way back to arrange dinner plans in the mall. I text Serban to let him know and we met up half an hour later in the lobby. 

Another wander around the mall which was now packed led to me deciding to go and look at the Tag watches and Serban looking at a smaller version of the Jarir bookstore we had been to in the other mall. John and Serban even stopped to try on several pairs of designer sunglasses in one shop while I watched from outside. Eventually and reluctantly we headed for the food court. I wasn't particularly hungry after my KFC earlier but knew if I didn't have anything I'd regret it later on so ended up getting another lasagne. John couldn't make up his mind and delayed so long that Serban (who had gone for Burger King) and I were finished before his was ready. He ended up taking it back to the hotel to eat in his room while Serban and I grabbed coffees from Starbucks again and headed back. Having no reason not to really, we ended up going back to our rooms where I continued a bit with my Arabic studies before eventually calling it a night... 

The (first) day of nothing...

I hadn't set any alarm yesterday morning. Knowing the Al Hoty office would close in the afternoon meant if they hadn't already contacted us for anything going on in the morning they were unlikely to arrange anything in the afternoon either. Serban was again not too pleased about us being left to our own devices and not knowing every possible detail of what lay ahead but I was maintaining my 'que sera sera' attitude and choosing not to get wound up something that is clearly just the way things are done over here. I'd tried to justify my attitude to him on several occasions to little avail. I got up at half 11 in the end. After half an hour John text to see if I was up and wanted to go and grab something to eat. We met up in the lobby at half 12 (me only just making it after being engrossed writing the blog and not really wanting to disrupt the flow I had going at that particular moment) and headed over to the mall. Having just got up I wasn't really in the mood to eat yet another fast food meal so suggested a coffee in Starbucks first. After finding out they offered free wifi we ended up sitting down and settling in. John caught up with facebook on his phone while I continued typing away. 

John had bought a Hudl before he came but had little idea how to use it. He took it out of his bag and asked me if I could figure it out and then show him. I set it up on the free wifi first of all and then set the clock. I wanted to put the facebook app on it for him (which I had just assumed existed being Android based) but could't for the life of me figure out how. I ended up using my ipad to Google how to do it which took long enough given the slow connection. Eventually I got my head around it but the wifi wasn't good enough to open the Play Store anyway so abandoned the entire enterprise for the time being. 

After a good hour we made our way to the food court and ended up trying a burger place which was clearly a cheap (and not particularly good) rip-off of McDonalds. It tasted fine but I think the appearance was exactly what Matty back home has probably got into his head every real McDonalds burger looks like now (he has a passionate dislike for them and swore years ago to never have one again). We hadn't noticed at first that Serban was already in the food court eating a different burger take away (there are five different burger outlets alone in this one food court I should point out) but he saw us and came over to finish his meal. He'd rang me at half 9 that morning wanting to know if I'd been contacted by Al Hoty about what we were supposed to be doing so I'd sarcastically thanked him for his alarm call. He'd ordered hot and sour soup from the Chinese outlet as well as his burger meal and went to collect it. He came back and started telling us how he was used to soup with most meals and complaining that it wasn't customary here and hard to find - to that point it hadn't really occured to either myself or John.

After dinner we went back to the hotel and sat in the lobby. I finished my blog entry and John set up facebook on his Hudl under my instruction. It was 2 o'clock and Serban decided he wanted to go for a lie down so we arranged to call him just after six to go for dinner. After explaining to John what Google Chrome was and him doing some internet browsing he ended up with a banner advert for "Pilipino girls in KSA". Anyone else would have just ignored it but him being him decided to explore further, clicking on it and studying the registration form. I had been engrossed again in typing, attracting several comments from John about being a computer whiz merely for the fact that I was typing quickly (to be fair as a relative comparison perhaps I am), but he'd disrupted me to ask how genuine I thought the site was and whether or not it was free like I said. Needless to say I didn't think it was the best of ideas to be on it in the first place and told him to play it safe and give up and wait until he can go to Bahrain in three months. 

We sat there for a good few hours and ended up going back up to our rooms just after six to dump our things before heading over to the mall again with Serban. John and I had been invited by Carl and Steve the night before for a curry with their big group of English mates but Serban hadn't been present at the time and John had been speaking to an old mate from back home who was working here and had arranged to meet up in the mall so we declined in the end. I could have gone for the curry with them by myself but to be honest, as nice as it was to meet some people from the UK I hadn't particularly been struck on Carl so wasn't too incentivised to spend another evening listening to him painting a disaster picture about everything again - everything he'd told us had so far been in complete contrast to our experiences. 

Over in the mall it was notably more busy than we'd seen it previously. We then remembered that this was the end of the working week here and in absence of anything better to do the Saudis clearly flock there. When we got to the food court Serban and John decided to try out an Iranian take away but it looked pretty similar to the other kebab places we'd tried already and I didn't fancy it. Next door though was a Pasta bar offering Lasagne so I thought I'd give it a go. I asked the guy behind the counter how big it was wondering if it would be more snack sized than a full meal and he took out a round foil dish and showed me. It looked a decent enough amount so I paid and sat with Serban who was waiting for his too. John was behind Serban in the queue and had somehow ended up talking to two ladies in full nicabs. We were practically over the other side of the room so couldn't hear anything but we could see him laughing with them and were both a bit concerned about what those around us might be thinking. Numerous reports from various sources have made it pretty clear that men shouldn't talk to women, especially if they're not accompanied by a male relative but right at this moment I suspect Johns desire to interact with any woman he could was blinding better judgement. Eventually he came back and said they were asking him to talk to them because they were learning English. I thought it was good although suggested maybe not being quite so obvious in his gesticulations whilst doing so in future. Serban just wasn't keen on the idea at all...

Five minutes later Johns mate found us and came over, shaking Johns hand and greeting him in a manner that gave me the impression they may have grown up or gone to school together but hadn't really kept close touch, more of a close aquaintence than a friend I'd speculate. I was probably vindicated in my estimation by the fact that Chris (the friend) was a quantity surveyor and had lived and worked in a few places around the world. He had just got engaged to a girl in Valencia which is where he intended to live again when he was done with the current two year Saudi contract he was 5 months into. 

Chris seemed the kind of guy who was more up my street than Johns. He had clearly known John back home to be a big party lad, always drinking and getting himself into trouble and jokingly asked a few times how he was coping without a pint. He was working on a project about 110 miles up the coast from Khobar, further than Jubail. He had a company car and had chosen to live in compound accommodation around here paid for in full by his employer rather than live in the local site compounds which apparently were nowhere near as nice. It must be some apartment to choose to add three hours of driving on these roads to your working day! He reiterated what we'd already figured out about how bad they were and said he leaves work early to avoid night time driving in particular. He gave me his business card, me thinking that he might be a handy person to know in future especially if he's only about half an hour further up the road to where I'd be anyway. Plus, like I said he seemed a pretty quiet, down to earth character which I took to far more than I'd taken to Carl or even Steve. 

He said he spent every other weekend in Bahrain when he had a two day weekend and gave us the low-down on the hotel and travel prices etc. The hotel he stays at isn't a particular good one he said but only costs about £27 a night which he's happy with - it seemed strange that he was quoting sterling after days of converting the other way. There are many other more or less expensive places but this was the best value for money he'd found in the price range he wanted to pay. The toll for the causeway was about £20 and and there was a mandatory £25 insurance policy if you were taking your own car. A pint costs about £4 give or take which considering what the demand must be like was less than my expectation. All in all though, he said if you could live without the beer then there really was nothing to go there for. There were prostitutes (which John seemed to like the idea of) but not many ordinary women compared to the number of men and Chris said he preferred the bars that were just really for drinking - though being engaged thats no suprise. Overall then, with the traffic getting over the causeway it was a lot of hassle for a pint and I have to admit I'm not that particularly enamoured with the whole idea of it - unlike John who's now living for the end of our 90 day probationary period when we will be allowed to leave the country (already after only 4 days... concerning). I unfortunately now face the dilemma of whether it's worth my paying the $570 SAR for the multiple entry exit/entry visa which lasts for 6 months or just to apply for single ones at $200 SAR for each of my holiday periods. The only reason to get the multiple really is to go there but I'll cross that bridge (perhaps literally) when I come to it later anyway. 

Once we'd finished our food we started to make our way back to the hotel. By this time it was about 10:30pm and a lot of the shops were still open. I'd noticed a music shop on the ground floor of the mall earlier in the week and decided I wanted to go and find it to see how much a guitar would be. As we got to the ground floor exit I turned left to begin my search. In typical fashion, had I turned right it would have been right in front of me but I ended up doing a full lap of the downstairs before looking on the map and realising what I'd done. On my travels though I unfortunately found the Tiffany store Kirsty had been posting about on my facebook wall. Deciding to take a picture as there was no one around to accidently capture and possibly offend I took a quick snap on my phone and sent it to her on whatsapp. Only as I took it did I realise that on the balcony above was a Tag Heuer outlet and made a mental note to go and have a look sometime. On my list of stuff to buy is a new watch as I left my others at home, having stainless bracelets and knowing in the heat they'd bring my wrist out in a rash due to my Nickel allergy. 

Unfortunately the music shop had closed so I headed for the exit I'd begun my search at. I text Serban to see where he'd gone after leaving him in search of a wooly hat (I kid you not!) and he text back to say he'd meet me shortly. John had dissapeared and ringing him, he said he was by gate 5 (we were at gate 7) and would meet us back at the hotel across the road. Serban and I decided to stop in at the coffee house opposite the hotel again as we had done the evening before. John came and found us as we finished ordering too and he decided we should sit outside and watch the football on TV. Unfortunately it turned out to be an Arab version of MOTD and hence not really being too interesting to any of us. 

John had been a bit down the entire afternoon ever since looking at facebook on his Hudl. I'm not sure  why and I didn't want to ask but Serban and I both wondered if there was a girl back home it had something to do with. He'd already asked me how to block an ex on it for ignoring a comment he'd put on a picture, or so he thought because when I looked I pointed out she'd actually liked it. Whatever the reason anyway, other than while Chris was there he'd not been particulary cheerful, spending most of his time looking at his phone and I was kind of glad to go back to my room. 

Having now discovered the hotel did have wifi and that their router had been turned off for some reason up until now I'd got the password off the front desk man. I thought I'd give facetime a go. Being 1am now here it was only 10pm back home and I thought Mum and Dad would still be up. Sure enough, reliable as ever Mum had her iPad right in front of her as I called and it connected fine... 

2 hours or thereabouts of catching up, giving them a tour of my present dwelling and seeing Hugo and Ralph chewing numerous toys having no idea of my presence really I said goodnight, arranging to facetime my Grandparents the following day when my Mum was there. I do miss the dogs quite a bit. Watching them jumping up on Mum and Dads knees to be stroked (or just given a treat in Hugo's case) I was quite envious. I decided to chance Stu too, just to pass on a message about the hot tub that was still at full temperature in the garden and had been since before I'd left really. He answered and we had a good half hour catch up. I even gave him the virtual tour down through the hotel and showing him the view of the mall opposite the hotel from the lobby. 

It was getting on for about 2:30am here and therefore 11:30pm there and although I didn't have to get up early Stu did so we said our goodbyes and after browsing through my films on iTunes (which I could do with the wifi connection) I almost immediately fell asleep...

The early morning... take two!

This my second attempt to tell you the events of yesterday now. I'd sat for an hour or so typing away in the hotel lobby after going down to upload Orientation when John came back from his run. I offered to show him on the Google Earth app whereabouts her was going and in the process forgot to save what I'd written which was consequently lost. Needless to say I was less than pleased.

We had an early start yesterday. I'd set four alarms to make sure I got up, on three different devices. Half 7 I got up in the end after alarm number three. It had been another night of not getting to sleep before about 2am and the furniture being moved for cleaning etc. I keep getting annoyed about it whilst trying to get to sleep and telling myself I'm going to say something in the morning, by which time I've calmed down and it doesn't seem worth the hassle anymore... Typically English. After my shower I rang John to make sure he was awake (he was just about awake enough to answer the phone), got changed and went downstairs to sit in the lobby and type up the events of the day before. It wasn't long before I was interrupted by Serban (the Romanian whose name order I'm now totally confused about!) joining me. John was only a few minutes behind anyway wearing the same shirt he'd had on yesterday. His usual wardrobe only includes shirts for special occasions and nights out with the boys it seems and I think he's used them both up.

We were picked up by Ricky just after 8:40 and taken to the ARAMCO ID processing centre about a minutes drive away. It's right next door to the Saudi Interior Ministry for Petroleum and Mineral Reserves which around here must be the top dog! Ricky made sure we all had our seat belts on this time. ARAMCO have a strict on-site policy and he would be responsible if we didn't. I already had mine on anyway and so did John in the front but Serban couldn't seem to understand the concept of wearing one in the back of the car - apparently not customary wherever he'd been... We sailed through a checkpoint upon entry onto the compund and proceeded straight to the building for ID processing. This was our first impression of ARAMCO and I'd heard a lot of hype. They really do carry god-like status here. 

It wasn't disappointing. The ID processing centre, which back home would have been done by the security guard from behind his desk, was a nice clean waiting area like a doctors clinic big enough for about 50 with five numbered doors behind which men at desks with cameras took pictures for ID cars and a room at the side with two men processing fingerprints. Ricky told us to have a seat and went to the front desk to do all the processing for us. There were all sorts of people there as you'd imagine. ARAMCO employs over 80,000 people so the number of ID's being turned over must be pretty high. There were only about thirty in total here today so it didn't seem busy but with their strict policy on what is needed to get one it's impressive that it runs so efficiently. 

As we sat there it would have been a perfect time to continue with the blog but I was stuck in the middle of Serban and John and didn't want them reading what I was typing at this point to protect future experience from the Hawthorne effect. They're both aware of the blog but neither has expressed any particular interest in it other than John asking me 'how many pages is it?'. Eventually we were called through one at a time. When I got to the finger print scanner the old Saudi guy said "I want to ask you a question". I though 'here we go, what have I done to stand out now?' He just wanted to know why so many westerners he'd seen had tattoos though. I kept trying to say I didn't really know and that I didn't have any but he wouldn't relinquish his persuit of an answer. At this point I told him it was a form of expression, or at least tried to because his English wasn't particularly brilliant. Eventually he just said OK, clearly not understanding what I'd told him and said to me "my skin has many colours as given by my god, why you want to change? Is not a good thing Mr Chris." Once he'd brought religion into the conversation I decided to politely nod and go along with his opinion anyway. Luckily I was just about done. After a picture and another 10 minute wait Ricky said we could leave now. 

Serban wanted to go to the Extra store we'd been told about after getting frustrated at what was on offer inside the mall and it's prices. He was most unhappy about not knowing where he would be staying and hence not knowing what, if anything, he needed to buy while there before making the 2 hour drive to the area of his training school in Al Mubarraz. Understandable, but if he'd have done his research beforehand he'd have known that's how it works therefore I was taking quite a chilled approach (plus I'm only 40 minutes drive away from here anyway not a big deal to come back again luckily). Apparently the store was about 3km further than the hotel and Ricky was a bit uneasy about driving anywhere he'd not been instructed by the office to do so. Serban was quite insistent though and Ricky eventually had to give in, afterall we were the clients here. We said we'd get a taxi back. When we got there it was basically like Comet back home, full of all the usual electrical appliances. Not actually intending to buy anything John and I spent about half an hour meandering through the isles looking at huge TVs and posh gadgets followed by a brief glance through the domestic things like irons, fridge freezers and kettles just to get a rough idea of the prices. To be honest John took no interest at all after the TVs. This approach of researching anything before jumping both feet first isn't in his DNA.

Now approaching half 11, having not had as much as a cup of coffee so far and John commenting on it every 2 minutes, the pair of us decided to leave Serban browsing to go and find somewhere that would sell snacks and drinks. We saw a guy with a take away Costa cup and headed in his upstream direction. There was a large home accessory chain store (which I'd never heard of) next door with the Costa at the back corner inside. We went in and walked straight through to it, ordering an Americano for myself and a Cappuccino for John with a couple of cookies. As we were being served the call for prayer came over the tannoy. If this had been a small outlet then we'd certainly have been asked to leave but this was a big chain store staffed by Philipinos which led to uncertainness between us. We decided to air on the side of caution and took our purchases outside, after all it was about 20 degrees and just perfect for sitting in the shade outside. I'd packed my half baguette into my bag as I'd left that morning just for such an occasion and offered to split it with John. I think he'd been eyeing up a big piece of cake until I say I'd pay for coffees after he got the juices the other night (which weren't cheap) and instead just got the cookie out of guilt. He didn't want it anyway he said, although again I think this was just him being polite.

As we sat with our refreshments we started talking about how we'd both ended up here, our interviews down in London, and what we'd been told about everything after them. Then John started telling me about the times he'd worked abroad. He'd only done it twice and both times had flown out to meet ships, sailing back on them while doing the work he had to. Every night of it had been a party and on the second ship he'd gotten ill from alcohol poisoning and had to get off for medical treatment before returning to find he'd been replaced (such is the life of a contract welder it seems). After that he'd spent a month partying with mates in Thialand before returning to a job welding pre-fab untis for ships down near Portsmouth and then applying for this position some time later.

Serban rang to say he was finished looking, complaining quite inisistently about the shelves being dusty (not that we had noticed and certainly no worse than back home) and the fact that they didn't stock the Samsung Galaxy S5 (which turns out doesn't yet exist). John and I thought it was funny. We saw a taxi driving across an adjacent car park and hailed it down. After negotiating the price down from $50 to $40 we got in. Up until now we'd only experienced Bandoy or Rickys driving and had been concerned enough at them for different reasons but this guy was far worse! A combination of ignorance and incompetence is the only way I can describe it. Several detours from his clearly desired route were taken along the way because he couldn't quite force his way over the three lanes in time to make turnings - anticipation and planning ahead were not his strong point let's just say. Thankfully we made it back in one piece, splitting the fare. We considered going back to the mall again for food but I wasn't particularly hungry and the cookie had been enough to get John over his dire need for sustenance it turned out. He decided he was going to go for a run and invited me. To be fair he doesn't seem the fittest of guys so I think this was the start of a New Years resolution whilst here with no alcohol to get fit and decided against it. Firstly for the fact that it was almost guarenteed to be no more than a gentle jog for not very long in this heat, secondly because every few hundred yards was a junction to cross and it would be continuous stop/starts, and finally because it dawned on me my trainers had been culled in the necessity of fitting my stuff in my cases anyway - the perfect excuse. Instead I sat in the hotel lobby making use of the free wifi to catch up with facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn, e-mails and type up my blog entry. 

Now I'm back where I left off after last time... I'm quickly pressing save!

By the time John had decided he was going for his shower and I was done calming down from my idiotic error it was about six o'clock. Time to go back over to the mall. Once again, just as we got near the food court the call for prayers... I really need to get my head around prayer times but following set intervals between dawn and dusk they change daily and have so far been difficult to predict. Anyway, we decided to go outside to wait. Whilst sat there two guys came up to us, one of them white and the other of Indian descent. They asked us if we were British and turned out Steve (the white guy) was an Electrical Engineer from Portsmouth and Carl (the Indian) was a Project Manager from London. They were with a Philipino friend Janus who was also an engineer and lived in Reading. Carl was an Al Hoty employee with not very many positive things to say about them. He'd been here three weeks and worked in Abu Dhabi for three years before spending a few back in the UK not working. When he'd run out of money he'd decided to come here. 

Up until the other day it turned out he'd been staying in the hotel room next door to John but was now living in an apartment block about a hundred yards away. There'd been a processing error with his Iqama application saying he was South African and so was having to get it all changed. Telling him it would take 8 months, he'd said to Al Hoty to send him home, so then they said one month... I don't know what it is about fast talking cockneys but he didn't come across as someone to take without doubt so again I just went along with what he said about it and agreed, deciding not to believe anything until I'd found out for myself. Out here you hear so many conflicting things it would be silly to take any one persons opinion on anything anyway. Speaking to Steve, who was a lot more down to earth, was more productive. He was about to move out to a refinery project a few hours away and had been given a company car. Both him and Carl did say not to take Al Hoty at their word about having to always surrender either our passports or Iqamas at any one time as the law had changed now and to get our wages paid back to our UK accounts so that if anything went wrong it wasnt tied up here. Both these points seemed quite alarmist and as it turned out the pair of them had no intention of doing more than a year no matter what and held almost everything in Saudi Arabia in contempt being quite upfront about only being here to collect a pay packet before moving on so this tainted their opinion further. I can understand why people like that are the way they are but I prefer to stay open minded about the future and see what it holds and John is definately of the same opinion claiming to want to spend the next 20 years here before retiring back to the UK!

The five of us went to the food court for dinner and then to the Carrefour briefly before splitting up and going our separate ways. Getting back to the hotel we met Serban at the entrance. He said he'd had a headache and was getting some fresh air, blaming it on the room being too cold. I'd had one earlier in the week and suspected more to do with dehydration from spending a lot of time in air conditioned environments compared to usual. We all sat outside for about 2 hours and got drinks from a posh cafe right opposite. I saw a fresh orange juicer and had a glass of that knowing I'd never sleep if I had coffee after a day of not really doing much anyway. Upon my return John decided he wanted one too, after initially refusing the coffee idea, and went to get one for himself. I started asking Serban about his previous employments although the only thing he was interested in talking about was Nigeria. He clearly wishes he was still there for numerous reasons, mainly revolving around the cost of everthing there. I'd previously noticed a wedding ring and asked him if he had family back in Romania. He said he did and then immediately started telling me about his 2006 Freelander - "the one from joint venture of BMW and Rover" he said. "Very good car, better than new one". Not wanting to argue I nodded and said "OK". 

Shortly after we decided to head back to our rooms. Turning on MBC2 to see what film was on and finding Seargent Bilko screaming at Private Pile I decided I wasn't in the mood for it and started watching one on the ipad but only getting about 15 minutes in before deciding it was time to go to sleep.