The multi-tasking man of Muscat

I was poised to fill out my visa application form with the genuine address of where I am staying, so was perturbed when I realised that the visa application process consisted of a local man, speaking through his iPhone headphones to an overly tolerant woman, taking new arrivals' passports and scanning them into what looked like a awkward cashpoint.  There was no question of why we are here, where we are staying, and none of the marriage proposals I have had when arriving in so many countries over the years.  The man who stamped my passport asked if my travelling companion was also called Helen.  Why would you ask that? There was a point when most people in my life were called Helen, but I have now limited the number of friends with the same name as it gets too confusing.  

We glided through to baggage reclaim where our bags awaited, then into an arrivals hall where hundreds of people awaited travellers.

Guess who is coming to Muscat tomorrow? That's right - the one-and-only guitar-strumming, thinking out loud, Ed Sheeran! Yes, really! We are trend setters.  Where we go, Ed Sheeran goes.

P awaited, and we drove home, seeing the Grand Mosque lit up in all its splendour.  There are plans afoot to build more mosques so that everyone is within 10 minutes of a mosque. The HSBC building looked as palatial as the grand mosque.  I suppose it depends how fast you walk as to whether you can get to a mosque in 10 minutes.  I wonder how they are working this out.

A cup of Yorkshire tea and a homemade cake later, it was time for bed.  

Goodnight faithful readers - stay with me and await tomorrow's adventures!