‘Oman? How d’you spell that?’ Those HSBC staff are sharp, I
thought to myself as I attempted to inform my bank that I was going abroad, as
one does.
‘O-M-A-N’, I duly replied, ‘An O, then a Man’, I helpfully
added, wondering how else it could possibly be spelt.
I am currently many thousands of feet up in the sky, over
the Persian Gulf, on the first leg of the flight to Muscat. The week so far has been chaotic, but lots
has been achieved – I have run Brownies / Guides / Senior Section for 70
children and young people, after attending Brownie Holiday as Kitchen
Assistant, which was a whole new world! I saw residentials from a whole new
angle. I’m usually running round with a
clipboard of non-sensical spreadsheets, trouble-shooting and organising, but
this role enabled me to partake in a different way. I taught Brownies to butter toast; I peeled a
lot of potatoes – badly, according to the Caterer; I had a lot of thinking time
whilst washing up and sweeping the floor.
I made Angel Delight, remembering back to when I first made it at Guide
camp in Cudham, when I was a little Guide.
All of the Leaders made their hair into bunches. I had three tiny bunches, which looked
interesting and is not something I often do.
I’m leading a campaign to attract new volunteers into
Guiding locally and have written four more articles this week – last night I
was overjoyed to receive an e-mail from a real live person who is interested in
volunteering! I have submitted a bid to Comic Relief for a proposal for the
charity I run; I have done an interview on BBC Radio London which I was
expecting to be about pregnancy discrimination, but was actually about the
electorate’s confidence in a pregnant potential minister. I have nailed the critical jobs which can’t
wait till next week, including a proposal for the Region’s 2016 Senior Section
Centenary event, authorising Maternity Action’s manifesto for the general
election, made a few eBay sales, paid all the staff (the right amount
eventually!), so now I am going to have an adventure in… Oman.
Granted, it’s a long way to go for a few days and – in case
you’re wondering – I will be back for the usual Monday evening Guiding meetings
on March 2nd.
Why Oman? ‘Not exactly Brighton, is it?’ somebody said. That’s true.
I haven’t been to Oman before, but I do know that it is quite different
to Brighton. Brighton is not in the Middle
East, for a start.
My dear friend P, with whom I went to Newstead Wood School
from 1994 – 2001 is living there at the moment, so I am going to visit!
The day began in the morning, when I woke up in an airport
hotel. The planes were inches away, practically
in the room with me. There were three
options my trusty travelling companion and I could go for to reach the airport:
one can take the free bus; one can pay £4.50 single or £9 return to go in the
magical shuttle bus; or one can pay £5 each single, so £20 altogether for 2 to
get there and back) to go in a freaky purple driverless pod thing! It was a
difficult decision, but we opted for the free bus. I don’t like the idea of a freaky purple
driverless pod. I always like to thank
the driver – whom does one thank in a driverless pod? ‘You go on the DLR’, my
travelling companion pointed out. ‘That
doesn’t have a driver’. Indeed, I
thought to myself, but it does have a ready supply of workers in luminous
jackets who wander through the carriages, opening mysterious boxes and pressing
buttons, which reassures me in the absence of a driver.
The free bus, which we caught just outside the Heathrow
Boxing Club, along with a number of families who seem to live within the
Heathrow perimeter, and many airport workers, took about 5 minutes and we were
soon queuing to deposit our bags. We had
checked-in online, a concept I will never understand – how can you definitely
know that you will arrive at the airport? What if the world ends in between you
checking-in online and arriving at the airport? What if Jesus chooses to return
in those intervening hours? Did no-one think of that?
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